


Behind The Scenes

by nhasablog



Series: Behind The Scenes [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M, Makeup artist!Steve, Tickling, actor!bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:59:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5005729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhasablog/pseuds/nhasablog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is an actor who’s just starting out. Steve is a makeup artist. They meet when they work on the same production and Bucky’s role requires him to have his body painted. Surely it’s hard to not become close if you have to stand half naked while someone paints on you everyday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on my tumblr nhasablog.tumblr.com
> 
> I will post new chapters irregularly, because uni takes up a lot of my time.

Bucky knew that being an actor was hard, but being an actor at a small theater was even worse. It was almost always crowded, people were either too relaxed or too tense, they couldn’t always afford all the props they needed, and to top it all off, because they were all just starting out they had to spend more time trying to make everything perfect just in case someone big came to watch them.

It was all very stressful, and Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

Yes, sure, he was exhausted more often than not, and some nights he didn’t come home until way past midnight, but he loved working hard. It was so satisfying to go to bed and knowing that you had tried your best.

Somedays, however, the exhaustion became overwhelming and he fell asleep in the dressing room. It wasn’t anything uncommon, actually, so people usually let others sleep for a little while. Bucky felt as if he’d only just gone to sleep when he suddenly woke up with a start.

He looked around confusedly. The room was dark; someone had turned off the lights for him, but he could still make out Steve’s face a few inches from his own. He was crouched over, his hand still lingering on Bucky’s arm, which he had undoubtedly just shook to wake him up.

Bucky rubbed his eyes. “Is it time?” he mumbled, his voice hoarse.

Steve nodded, a small smile finding his lips. “I wanted to let you sleep more, but you know how Fury is. I’m not exactly a fan of being yelled at.”

Bucky let out a laugh, sitting up properly in his chair. “It’s okay. Just give me a minute.”

Steve nodded and disappeared. Every time Bucky looked at him, he saw someone who would be a perfect candidate to play a jock on the show. Or become a model. He still had a hard time believing that Steve was a makeup artist.

He ran a hand through his hair and stood up, stretching his tense limbs. He really needed to stop falling asleep at his desk when there was a perfectly functional couch across the room.

Taking a few sips of his now cold coffee, he popped his head out into the hallway, finding Steve leaning against the wall.

He looked up at him with a smile. “Ready?”

Bucky nodded. “Just give me all you’ve got.”

“Oh, trust me, I intend to.”

Steve was the only makeup artist on the team who worked with more than people’s faces, and Bucky was the only actor on the show who needed body paint, therefore they saw a lot of each other. Bucky was sure that he could recite Steve’s entire life story at the top of his head by now.

Bucky took his shirt and pants off once Steve had entered the dressing room and closed the door. This part always made him slightly nervous. Being half naked on stage while playing a role was one thing. Being half naked in a small room with a handsome guy he’d met just a few months ago was something completely else.

Steve always made him feel comfortable, though. Bucky didn’t know how he did it.

He started painting on his arms and shoulders first, and his usual chatter filled the room. Bucky would never know how he could concentrate on his work and still hold entire conversations at the same time.

He wasn’t complaining, however, and happily joined in.

“I was here until one in the morning yesterday,” Bucky said, resisting the urge to scratch the spot Steve was painting on. “Or, well, today, I guess.”

Steve hummed. “I can see why you keep falling asleep everywhere.”

“Hey, I’m not the only one doing that.”

“I know, I know.” The brush disappeared momentarily as Steve dipped it in more paint. “At least you have the day off tomorrow.”

“Man, I love Sundays so much,” Bucky said with a dreamy sigh. “It’s a miracle if I leave my bed.”

Steve chuckled. “Understandable.”

“What do you usually do on your days off?”

“Sometimes I get lunch with friends, sometimes I read, draw.”

“Don’t you get sick of it, since you draw on people’s faces everyday? And, you know, my body.”

“Drawing on a paper is different.” He moved the brush downwards to Bucky’s shoulder blades, making him twitch ever so slightly. “I like it both, obviously, but when I draw on paper I don’t have to always know what I’m doing. I just go along with it. It’s not like that here. I always know what I’m going to draw on you guys.”

“So you get to be more creative at home?”

“Exactly.”

“You any good?”

He caught Steve smiling in the mirror. “I’d like to think so.”

“I’ve never seen any of your sketches.”

“I don’t tend to show them to people. They’re more..,personal.” He dipped the brush in the paint again. “Okay, Buck, I’m gonna paint your lower back now. Try to be still.”

Bucky groaned. “This is so embarrassing.”

Steve’s reply was lost under Bucky’s sudden yell as the brush touched his skin.

When Bucky got the role he didn’t know that it required him to be painted on everyday. Being ridiculously ticklish pretty much everywhere didn’t work very well for him in these situations.

Fortunately Steve found it all hilarious, so he rarely got annoyed at him.

“Sorry!” Steve said as Bucky gripped the desk in ticklish agony. “I’ll try to be quick.”

“That’s what you said yesterday, and it nearly took you half an hour,” Bucky choked out.

“Maybe I like seeing you suffer.”

“Oh, I know you do.” Bucky jumped as the brush swept across his side. “Careful!”

“I am!”

“Oh, stop laughing. You’re enjoying this too much.”

Steve’s reflection grinned at him. “I am.”

Bucky shook his head, squirming as Steve kept painting. “So goddamn mehehean.”

“Ah, the giggles are here.”

“Shuhuhut up.”

Bucky was so happy that they had managed to click pretty early, or this would be a lot worse than it already was.

Steve painted the rest of his back in silence while Bucky giggled his head off. It took everything in him not to accidentally elbow Steve in the ribs (yes, he’d done that before).

They both knew that the biggest challenge was yet to come, though, and Bucky gave a loud whine when Steve told him to turn around so that he could work on his stomach and ribs.

“I don’t get why I can’t just wear a costume.”

“Oh, hush. We’re almost done.”

But the moment Steve’s brush touched Bucky’s lower tummy they both knew it would take a while for them to finish.

Bucky yelped, his hands coming up to grab at Steve’s arms, not exactly to push him away, but just to hold onto something. Steve smiled apologetically as Bucky squirmed and huffed, and he was nice enough not to mention how hard Bucky was squeezing his arms.

Bucky ducked his head as laughter started pouring out of him, but Steve paused momentarily to tap his chin and lift it up again.

“You’re blocking my vision,” he said, sounding amused.

“Sorry,” Bucky muttered, giggling again when the brush returned. “Gohohod.”

“Wrong. I’m Steve.”

“You’re sohoho nohohot funny.”

Something glimmered in Steve’s eyes. “Then why are you laughing?”

Bucky would snort if he could.

It became a bit easier once Steve was done with his belly, but his ribs still left him giggling like a maniac, and he more than once pulled Steve closer to him instinctively, their foreheads touching.

“Hi,” Steve said, his breath smelling of mint and coffee as it hit Bucky’s face.

“Hi,” Bucky replied breathlessly.

“May I continue?”

“Do you have to?”

“You know I do.”

“Just checking.”

Bucky was feeling exhausted on a whole other level once they were done.

“You did good,” Steve told him, packing his things away. “You didn’t hit me today.”

Bucky barked out a laugh. “I feel like our relationship just gets more intimate everyday.”

Steve grinned. “It sure does.”

“Is it intimate enough for me to buy you coffee tomorrow? You know, if you can bear to leave your pen and paper for a few hours.”

Steve hummed, and Bucky hoped he couldn’t see how nervous he actually felt. “Only if you can abandon your bed.”

Bucky smiled in relief. “Deal.”

Steve grabbed his bag. “Duty’s calling.”

“Face painting?”

Steve nodded.

“Those guys don’t know how lucky they are.”

“To not have my hands all over their bodies, you mean?”

Bucky paused. “Huh. I take that back.”

Steve laughed. “I’ll see you later, Buck.”

“I don’t know if two performances in a night is a blessing or a curse.”

“I’d say it’s the former.” Steve winked at him and walked toward the door, turning back to him just before leaving the room. “Oh, by the way. I think it’s adorable that you’re ticklish.” And he was gone.

Bucky couldn’t wait until tomorrow. He really couldn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve go out on a few dates, but it doesn’t take long for Steve to take advantage of the knowledge he has of Bucky’s sensitivity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also posted on my tumblr nhasablog.tumblr.com

Bucky felt as if he’d just closed his eyes when the sound of his alarm echoed through the room. He groaned, rolling over and wishing he could turn it off by slamming his hand onto his clock, but in reality he didn’t own a digital clock and it was his phone that was the cause for this rude awakening. Damn you, modern times.

He turned it off, checked the time, and wondered drowsily why he had an alarm on when it was Sunday, his one and only day off in the week. It took him nearly two whole minutes to realize that it was the same reason that it had taken him forever to fall asleep the previous night due to nerves that had nothing to do with the show.

He had a coffee date with Steve.

“Why did we even decide to meet in the _morning_?” he mumbled, but he felt the corners of his lips tug upwards as he sat up. On Sundays, he usually never left his bed before noon, but he found himself not minding too much as he dragged himself into the shower to wash off the residual paint from last night’s show. He never did manage to get it all off on the first try.

The ground was icy, and the wind was like a cold slap to the face. Bucky huddled into his coat, regretting that he’d left his scarf at home. He crossed the street quickly; narrowly missing a patch of glistening ice that would’ve most likely caused him to fall flat on his face. That’d be a wonderful sight. ‘Hi, Steve, sorry I’m late, but I broke my nose on my way here’.

He smirked to himself. Steve had seen him in trickier situations than that. He’d probably just snort before taking him to the hospital.

He was welcomed by the glorious smell of coffee when he entered the warm shop, and it made his body relax instantly. Good thing that, because the moment he spotted Steve waiting for him at a table he felt a nervous lump form in his stomach, but at least now he was able to actually force his feet to function and walk up to him.

“Hi,” he greeted, his voice only a little higher than usual.

Steve glanced up, a smile spreading over his lips. “Hello.”

“Have you ordered?” Bucky asked, taking off his gloves and wiggling his fingers around to warm them up quicker.

Steve shot his hands a look that Bucky couldn’t read before shaking his head.

“Good, because I said I was buying.” Bucky shrugged his coat off, idly noticing that Steve opened his mouth to protest. “Shh, don’t fight me on this one.”

Steve let out a laugh and held up his hands. “Okay, sorry.”

Bucky grinned and draped his jacket over the back of his chair. “So what do you want?”

A couple of minutes later and Bucky returned with two steaming lattes; vanilla for Bucky and a regular for Steve.

“I like vanilla,” Bucky said mock defensively as he sat down.

Steve accepted his cup gratefully. “I’m not judging. I had a period where I would always get caramel lattes.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow as he sat down. “Really?”

Steve nodded. “Uh huh. In the end I got sick of how overly sweet it was, but I do get the the appeal of flavored coffees.”

Bucky sipped his drink and winced when he burned his tongue; his eyes filling with tears. “Ouch, okay, bad idea.”

Steve laughed, a bit louder than usual. “I know the feeling. You always end up making that mistake, despite knowing how hot it is.”

“I can’t help it,” Bucky said, putting his cup down. “Damn you, delicious coffee.”

The conversation flowed rather smoothly after that. They talked about last night’s show, and how late they had gotten home. A discussion about their childhood homes followed up, which prompted them to make confessions about times they had been mischievous as kids. It honestly didn’t feel any different from usual, and Bucky was very glad about that fact. Ever since asking Steve to get coffee with him he’d been worried that things would be awkward. That Steve only said yes to be polite, but he seemed to genuinely be enjoying himself. Bucky felt a warm feeling spread in his chest when he realized, and it had nothing to do with his drink.

“It feels nice to talk to you without you giggling like a maniac,” Steve commented eventually, smirking over his cup before taking a sip.

As predicted, Bucky felt his face heat up. “Shut up,” he mumbled, twirling his cup around just to have something to do. “You know I can’t help it.”

Steve’s expression softened. “I do, but I still think it’s hilarious.”

“You used the word adorable yesterday, if I remember correctly.”

Steve bit his lip, suddenly looking bashful. “I did.”

“It’s a good thing my pain brings you so much joy,” Bucky said with a lopsided grin. He tried to tease him back; tried to sound nonchalant about it all, but he found his gaze drawn down to the cup between his hands, observing it with so much interest that anyone would probably get jealous. The cup was a weird faded green color, a fact that he’d never really noticed before. He was unable to make any further discoveries as Steve’s hand appeared out of nowhere and grabbed his wrist.

Bucky glanced up, their eyes meeting. Something twinkled in Steve’s.

“Your pain brings me a lot of joy,” he said, his voice low but soft. Bucky felt his heart skip a beat.

“Is that so?” he shot back, aware that his face was burning up and it was probably notable.

Steve smirked again as he let go of his wrist. “Uh huh.”

Bucky leaned back a bit in his seat. “Good, because you’ll be seeing a lot of it for at least six more months.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “I can’t wait.”

* * *

 

 

The met for coffee two more times before deciding to make their dates - Bucky always felt himself get giddy at the word - more diverse.

“How about a movie?” Steve asked as he ran his brush down Bucky’s stomach, leaving him in stitches. “There’s this new adventure movie. Want me to see if I can get tickets for Sunday during the day?”

Bucky leaned his head on Steve’s shoulder and laughed into his shirt. “Sounds greheheat.”

In retrospect, Bucky knew that Steve would take advantage of his sensitivity eventually, but he hadn’t expected him to do so in a crowded movie theater.

At first he didn’t know how to react. Steve put his hand on his knee, and Bucky had thought that he was making a move on him and he held his breath for a few seconds because what the hell, Steve, _here_? But when Steve gave his knee a squeeze instead, which caused him to kick out with a - thankfully quiet - yelp, he knew exactly what was going on.

Bucky turned to give him a glare, getting a smirk in return. One more squeeze and Bucky groaned, leaning into him a bit.

“Stop it,” he whined as the first advertisement started rolling.

“But it’s fun,” Steve replied, squeezing again. “I didn’t know your knees were ticklish as well.”

Bucky, despite not really wanting to, grabbed his hand and pushed it off of his leg. “You suck,” he told him before pointedly turning his head away to stare at the screen.

Steve’s amusement was audible in his voice. “I know.”

Concentrating on the movie became hard once Steve’s hand returned, this time on his thigh, squeezing it at random times without so much as batting an eye. Bucky jerked each time, elbowing him hard in the ribs as revenge. Steve only squeezed harder when he did that.

The longer this went on the more Bucky got the urge to laugh, and soon he had to slap a hand over his mouth as giggles started pouring out. Steve, that bastard, only squeezed more. It didn’t even help to push him away, because he always returned.

“Stop it, I’m begging you,” Bucky choked out quietly, pressing his face into Steve’s shoulder.

The hand disappeared from his knee as Steve wrapped it around him, pulling him closer. “Sorry,” he whispered, his breath hitting Bucky’s forehead. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Bucky huffed and relaxed, turning back to watch the movie, still leaning into Steve’s side.

Steve attacked his side at one point, though, since he had his hand there already, but it was just in time for the end credits, so Bucky flew out of his seat as soon as the first tickle came, glaring playfully at the other man.

“You’re so adorable,” Steve told him, standing up as well.

“And you’re the meanest person on the planet,” Bucky deadpanned as his heart was racing. “I’m never going to the movies with you again.”

Steve shrugged, reaching for his jacket. “Guess we’ll be forced to watch movies at home then.”

Bucky paused as he was grabbing his coat. “That was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

“Obviously.” Steve grinned at him. “I’ll have a lot more fun with you behind closed doors.”

Bucky bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. “Don’t think I won’t retaliate.”

“I wouldn’t think that for a second.”

Things just got a _very_ interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky’s story is evolving, but how did it actually start? Bucky remembers the first time they met as he gets ready for their next date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also posted on my tumblr nhasablog.tumblr.com
> 
> Please tell me what you think!

Bucky had honestly not fully comprehended his situation until Fury, the director of the show, led him to his dressing room on the very first day of rehearsals. It was a small theater; old and shabby and overcrowded, but it was one of Bucky first bigger acting jobs, so he was immensely grateful for the opportunity. This was only the beginning, after all.

“This one’s yours,” Fury told him, pushing the door open. “It’s not much, and you’ll share it with a few other guys.”

Bucky glanced at him, waiting for a ‘but’ to follow, but it never did. He decided right there and then that he liked this director, because at least he was honest.

Bucky pointed at the couch. “As long as I get to nap on that I’m fine.”

Fury’s lips twitched, and Bucky interpreted it as him grinning. “Let’s go find the rest of the cast.”

His co-actors were all really nice. He couldn’t help but notice that they were all very close, and he was once again reminded of the fact that he only got this part because the original actor decided to drop out last minute and they didn’t have any swings or understudies. He was lucky indeed.

“So you’re playing the role of Elpho, huh?” a redheaded girl said; Natasha or something.

Bucky nodded. “Playing a misunderstood wizard just spoke to me.”

She smirked at him. “I like your style.”

Bucky barked out a laugh. “Thank you.”

“Have you met Steve yet?” a dark guy asked; Sam or something.

Bucky blinked at him. “Uh…”

“He’s one of our makeup artists,” Natasha explained, flicking her hair off her shoulder. “You’ll be working exclusively with him.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Why me? I mean, if you have several of those-”

“Because he’s the only one who works with bodypaint,” Clint replied. Or was it Clark?

Bucky furrowed his brows. “Bodypaint?”

“Jeez, you really seem to be out of it,” Tony, one of the techies said. He was grinning, though, so Bucky decided not to get offended.

He did let out a frustrated huff, though. “What are you-”

“Barnes,” Natasha cut in, looking at him pointedly. “Did you skip over the part in the script where it says that Elpho is green?”

Bucky’s eyes widened in realization. “Green?”

Natasha nodded. “Green.”

“So this Steve guy has to-?”

“Yup.”

Fuck.

* * *

 

Honestly, it wasn’t really the end of the world. His role was still the same, only that he had to be a different color to play it. What bothered him, though, was the fact that he knew exactly what he’d have to go through everyday to become that color. This Steve guy was bound to get sick of him eventually.

He bit his lip as he stared at the same word in his script, unable to concentrate. They’d been rehearsing for a week now, and Bucky still hadn’t run into Steve, which was weird when you thought about it. You’d think a small theater like this would force them to meet sooner or later.

They had their first performance of Evil in just under a week, and Fury decided that it was time for Bucky to fully get into the role of Elpho, so he was perched on the couch in the dressing room, trying to occupy himself as he waited for Steve to arrive. Usually he would’ve yelled at Clint and Sam to shut up ages ago, because they had a tendency to talk as if no one else was around, but today he was way too out of it to even notice.

He did notice the door swing open, though, and his head snapped up so quickly he was worried he might get whiplash. A quite tall and muscular figure greeted his sight; his blond hair neatly trimmed and his tight shirt hugging his body perfectly. He was carrying a bag, and Bucky promptly realized that he was about to get painted on by a Greek God.

He didn’t know if that made him feel better or not.

“Hi, you must be Bucky,” he greeted him, taking a few steps into the room and nodding to Clint and Sam who both waved back.

Bucky swallowed. He had a really nice voice. “And you must be Steve,” he replied, standing up; his script flying off of his lap and onto the floor in the process. He stared at it helplessly for a few seconds before picking it up; ignoring the smirks he got from Sam and Clint.

“Hi, how are you?” Steve asked as Bucky walked up to him and they shook hands.

“Fine, fine,” Bucky said with a somewhat awkward smile. “Uh, how are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m uncomfortable,” Clint declared, standing up. “I hate formal meetings. I’m leaving. Peace.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but made a move to follow. “I don’t want to see Bucky half-naked anyway,” he said, sending him a grin before disappearing.

Bucky was unable to return it. Somehow he had completely blocked out the fact that he was supposed to be _half-naked_  while being painted on. As the door shut behind Sam he felt Steve turn to look at him, and he glanced up with a tight-lipped smile.

“Shall we begin?” Steve asked, giving him a soft grin as he placed his bag on Bucky’s desk.

Bucky nodded. “Sure. Uh, do I just…strip or-”

Steve shifted a bit. “Down to your underwear, yes. I hope you… I don’t want things to get weird.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m fine. It’s fine. It’s part of my job, after all.”

Steve gave a low chuckle. “Mine too.”

Bucky was breathing harder than before. “I’ll just…” He trailed off, his fingers grabbing the hem of his shirt, lifting it slowly, only for him to realize that he acted as if this was a strip tease. He took it off quickly and discarded it on the couch, his shoes, socks and pants following suit.

He stood in the middle of the room, realizing that it was slightly breezy in there. He shivered and crossed his arms.

Steve was making a hell of a good job not letting his eyes stray away from Bucky’s face. “You’re cold,” he observed, reaching for his bag. “I’ll try to be quick.”

Bucky waved a hand at him. “Take all the time you need.”

Having a pair of eyes stuck on your bare skin made you feel insecure about things you’d never been insecure about before, but Bucky forgot all about it when the brush first touched his skin.

“Ah!” he yelped, laughing at himself afterwards like a nerd. “The paint’s cold.”

He could see Steve grinning at him in the mirror. “Sorry! I should’ve warned you.” He swept the brush over his shoulder some more, creating the green pattern that Elpho was supposed to have. It actually felt quite nice, so Bucky spent a few seconds enjoying the sensation, but once the silence turned slightly tense he knew he had to speak up.

“So, have you always been a makeup artist?”

“Uh huh. Ever since I graduated college four years ago. This is my first time working with both faces and bodies, though. People usually only ask for one or the other.” He dipped his brush into some more paint. “Have you always been an actor?”

“Well,” Bucky started, raising his head a bit. “I did study acting in college, and took some jobs in commercials and short films and some smaller plays afterwards, but this is my first job being in the main cast.”

“Not just the main cast,” Steve cut in. “I heard you’re the main character.”

Bucky smiled timidly. “Yeah, well, I was lucky, with the other guy quitting and all.”

“You getting the part wasn’t luck. It was talent.”

Bucky ducked his head with a laugh. “When you put it like that.”

Steve’s reflection grinned. “I know Fury is really picky about the actors he picks, so I bet you’re really g- oh my god, did I hurt you?”

Bucky was grabbing the edge of his desk; having jumped away from Steve’s brush and where it had strayed to his lower back really suddenly. It had been an automatic response, and he knew it looked really dramatic. He felt his face flush as he turned to face the other man.

“No, no, you didn’t hurt me at all!” he squeaked out, wanting nothing more than to run away.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Then what was that?”

“I, uh, may be a bit sensitive on certain parts of my body,” he mumbled, averting his gaze. “I probably should’ve told you.”

Realization swept over Steve’s face. “Oh! Sorry, I’ll… well, things just got a lot more complicated.”

“Just keep doing your thing. I’ll be fine. Really.”

“You sure?”

Bucky nodded. “I might squirm and laugh and maybe even hit you, but I’ll be fine.”

Steve laughed at that. “At least you’ll be making our time together interesting.”

Bucky grinned. “Keep that in mind when I elbow you in the guts.”

When Bucky returned to his spot and Steve’s brush touched his lower back again, he was prepared for the jerk that came, and managed to stay put this time. He reached out with one hand to grab the desk, though, just to hold onto something.

“Ah, shit,” he hissed, closing his eyes. “Oh, god.”

Steve, that bastard, chuckled behind him. “This is hilarious.”

“You’re mean,” Bucky choked out. “I didn’t peg you as a mean type.”

“And I didn’t peg you as a ticklish type, but here we are.”

“I can’t help it,” he replied, squirming a bit in order to try to get away from the unbearable sensation. “You can help your meanness, though.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.” A few silent seconds of painting and then, “Please be still. If I mess up I’ll have to start over.”

“But it’s just a rehearsal,” Bucky reminded him, breathing harder than before. “I doubt it matters.”

“It will matter to Fury. Everything needs to be perfect when it comes to Evil. This show’s like his baby.”

Bucky tried to be still after that, but it became a lot harder once he started giggling.

“Oh nohoho,” he whined, covering his face with one hand. “This is sohoho embarrassihihing.”

“I think it’s rather cute.”

“You’re a sahahadist, thahat’s why.”

By the time Steve was finished Bucky felt like he’d properly humiliated himself, but at least the ice was broken now. It was hard not to click when going through something like that together.

“Green suits you,” Steve said as he packed his things up.

“Good thing that. Fury might’ve changed his mind and forced you to redo everything.”

Steve grinned somewhat apologetically. “I’ll have to do this tomorrow again.”

Bucky sighed. “I know. And the day after that.”

“And the day after that.”

“We might as well move in together, since we’re gonna spend so much time together anyway.”

Steve nodded mock seriously. “And get married, since we’re being so intimate as it is.”

Bucky ignored the heat finding his face and nodded back. “Let’s go and announce our plans to the others.”

Steve pointed to the door. “Lead the way.”

* * *

 

Bucky smiled at the memory. In retrospect, their first meeting hadn’t been that awkward after all. Steve seemed to not have minded his constant squirming and laughing, and Bucky certainly didn’t mind having Steve touching him, even if it was with a brush. His stomach gave a giddy jolt as he left his apartment on his way to Steve’s for their first ever date away from the public.

He’d have to send Fury a thank you card.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky spend the evening at Steve’s place for the first time, and luckily things aren’t as tense as they first seem to be. Especially not after Steve decides to take advantage of the fact that they’re alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also posted on my tumblr nhasablog.tumblr.com

Steve was nervous. Bucky could tell. They might not have known each other for years, but spending a certain amount of time together had its perks. Bucky now knew all of Steve’s little quirks, and he could easily tell what sort of mood he was in with just a glance. The downside was that Steve probably shared that skill, so Bucky’s own nervousness was most likely visible.

Being together around people was one thing. Being together in Steve’s apartment, completely secluded from the public eye, was a whole other story. At first neither of them had been entirely sure how to act. Once all formalities were over and done with they had found it hard to fall into their usual conversations. The ease that had been there since day one had packed up its bags and left; an awkwardness taking its place. It had been a weird and almost abrupt change of ways, but once Bucky had managed to knock his glass over and have its contents drench the front of his pants, Steve had laughed so hard that every little bit of discomfort in the air completely vanished. Fortunately Bucky had only been drinking water, and a quick trip to the bathroom and the use of a hair dryer did the trick. At least things went back to normal after that.

“Do you want to watch Dead Poets Society or Heathers?” Steve asked as he squatted in front of his huge DVD collection.

Bucky raised a brow from where he was sitting on the couch. “Heathers.”

Steve stood up properly. “Got it.”

“Interesting choice of movies,” Bucky commented as Steve sat down next to him a couple of minutes later.

“Oh, hush. They’re both my guilty pleasures.”

“And you wanted to see my reaction to said guilty pleasures?”

Steve didn’t look at him when he replied. “Had to figure out if you’re a keeper.”

Bucky ignored his burning face and focused on the opening credits. He felt Steve shifting a bit; settling down more comfortably with his feet resting on the coffee table. Bucky quickly imitated him.

The movie wasn’t really something Bucky thought he would enjoy, but he actually did. He made a mental note to not let Steve know it though, because he wanted to be able to tease him. However, every thought of that quickly disappeared from his mind when Steve’s hand found his thigh.

He knew exactly what to expect this time, so he grabbed his wrist the very moment the first squeeze came; gripping it tightly as he turned to mock glare at him.

Steve pulled a face of absolute innocence. “If you wanted to hold hands you didn’t have to be so aggressive about it.”

“Oh, ha ha. You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“Well, you’re laughing.”

Bucky dropped his hand and turned away from him again; praying to whatever forces were up there that Steve would continue messing with him, because despite what he said he didn’t actually dislike it. Quite the opposite.

He got his wish when Steve’s hand found his hip a little while later. Unfortunately neither of them had expected the reaction that followed that movement, and Steve was chuckling in surprise when Bucky jumped away from him almost violently; his head landing on the armrest on the other side as his feet dropped to the floor.

“Ticklish, Buck?” Steve asked, a knowing look on his face. Bucky didn’t know when Steve had started calling him ‘Buck’, but he liked it more than he was willing to admit.

“Of course not. Where did you get that silly idea from?” Bucky deadpanned, making a move to sit up, but Steve used a hand to push at his chest; keeping him down. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“Taking advantage of us being alone. Obviously.”

Bucky’s heart was racing. “Should I be scared?”

Steve gave him a soft smile now. “No. We both know you love this.”

Being properly tickled by Steve was a lot different from being messed with in a movie theater or having a brush on his bare skin. Steve was strong, so he easily pinned Bucky down on the couch. Bucky hadn’t expected him to be that good of a tickler, however, but he was. Oh, he was.

Steve wasted no time and went for Bucky’s tummy instantly. With quick and nimble movements he managed to evade Bucky’s hands and was wiggling his fingers lightly and unbearably over the sensitive area. To say that Bucky fell into hysterics almost immediately would be an understatement.

“I’ve barely even touched you yet,” Steve said with a grin, watching the way Bucky’s whole face scrunched up as he laughed and laughed and laughed.

“Gohohohod!” was all Bucky managed to choke out. Being ridiculously ticklish, especially on his tummy, combined with the fact that he’d been anticipating this for a couple of days now, made the whole experience a lot more intense. Every little touch was overwhelming to him in the best way possible.

“This is more fun than painting on you, if I’m gonna be honest,” Steve commented loudly to make himself heard over Bucky’s laughter. “I’m free to experiment this way, even if I have to hold you down.”

He moved upwards to scratch at Bucky’s ribs, causing his laughter to calm down ever so slightly, but still leaving him in stitches.

“Steheheheve!” Bucky cried, managing to push his hands away only for them to return again. This was what Bucky loved about being tickled. How he would constantly try to get away from those invading fingers just to have them always find their way back.

“You’re adorable,” Steve told him, playing his ribs like the piano. “And you’re laughing even harder now than you usually do. I can’t say I don’t love it.”

“You’re a sahahadist!”

Steve snorted. “Of course I am. But you’re so much fun to torture.”

Bucky dug his heels into the couch when Steve suddenly lunged for his neck. He scrunched up his shoulders with a squeal before dissolving back into hysterical laughter.

“Dohohon’t!” he cried, his hands grabbing Steve’s arms, but having lost their strength almost completely by this point. Neither of them were going anywhere anytime soon.

“Don’t? What do you mean with ‘don’t’?” Steve titled his head at him. Or at least Bucky thought he did. Seeing through squinting, watering eyes proved to be pretty hard. “Aren’t you enjoying this, Bucky?”

Bucky knew Steve got a kick out of making Bucky squirm both figuratively and literally, but he still couldn’t help but blush somewhere on his already flushed face. If Steve only knew how flustered he made Bucky even without his teasing words. He’d never hear the end of it.

One of Steve’s hands found his tummy again; the other remaining at his neck. “I said, aren’t you enjoying this, Bucky?”

Bucky almost screamed with laughter; his hands flailing around uselessly and his back arching in desperation. Steve barely budged.

“Nohohoho! Steheheve, plehehe-” He was unable to finish the sentence. He couldn’t blame Steve for sounding so amused.

“Come on. Say it.” He scribbled at his lower stomach. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Okay, okahahay! I enjoy ihihit! Now stohop!”

Steve hummed. “I didn’t think you’d cave so quickly. And I haven’t even gotten your bare skin yet.”

“Fuhuhuck, Steheheve, plehease!”

Steve sighed dramatically. “Fine, but only because I find it hot when you swear.”

Steve heaved himself off of him and took a seat by his feet; thankfully not using the proximity to his soles to his advantage.

Bucky sat up once he’d spent a few minutes gasping for air; his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and his cheeks still flushed. He probably looked like a mess.

He pointed a finger at Steve. “You suck.”

Steve grinned. “I know.”

“So much.”

“I know.”

Bucky scooted closer to him. “I really wanna kiss you.”

Something glinted in Steve’s eyes. “I know.”

Being alone with Steve for a certain amount of time everyday was one thing. Being on dates with him was another. Being alone at his place was definitely something else, but nothing compared to the feeling of his lips brushing against his own; so smooth and soft and amazing.

Bucky had no idea how many people Steve had kissed before, and it honestly didn’t even matter. All Bucky knew was that he never wanted to stop kissing those lips. Never wanted to cease tasting him; taking him all in. He never wanted their bodies to stop pressing together; their hands straying, touching, feeling. He never wanted any of it to stop, but when Steve suddenly grabbed his forearms and giggled into his mouth, Bucky was bound to get curious.

“What’s up?” he asked once he’d pulled away. “Was...was it something I did?”

Steve shook his head quickly, looking sheepish. “No, no, you’re fine! It’s just…” he trailed off, and Bucky had to rummage his memory for every action he’d done in the last minute. He’d leaned in, kissed him; sweetly at first only for it to get a little more intense as the seconds ticked. He’d placed his hands on his hips, his arms, his sides; dug his fingers in when Steve had bit his lower lip and- oh.

He could tell that Steve became slightly nervous at his sudden grin. “You’re not ticklish by any chance?”

Steve huffed, his face turning pink. “Shut it, Barnes, and kiss me again.”

Bucky was certainly not going to pass that opportunity up, but he filed the newfound information away for later. Knowing Steve, he’d most likely need it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After discovering that Steve’s ticklish as well Bucky can’t help but mess with him all day. He also can’t help but think of how his life with Steve could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just these two idiots being all flirty and stupid and people walking in on them being all flirty and stupid.
> 
> Also posted on my tumblr nhasablog.tumblr.com

“On your left.”

Steve visibly jumped at the sudden voice next to his ear, but turned to Bucky with a grin nevertheless. “Hey, you.”

“Hey.” Bucky perched down on the seat next to him. “What are you drawing?”

Steve closed his notebook quickly. “Just doodling. Nothing remarkable.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Steve’s lips twitched upwards almost timidly. “You’re too kind.”

“I’ve never seen any of your sketches, though,” Bucky said, adjusting his position on the chair so that he could look at Steve more properly. “Do you ever show them to people?”

“It’s very rare that I do,” Steve replied, his eyes flying between Bucky and his notebook. “They’re…kind of personal, at times. Or at least I feel that way. I don’t want just anyone to see them.”

Bucky nodded. “Understandable.”

It was quite early and there were only a couple more people at the theater at this hour. After Bucky had gotten home the previous night he hadn’t been slow in texting Steve to make lunch plans for the next day. Once they’d eaten and realized that it would be too tight to go home and then to work they’d decided to arrive at the theater early and do “whatever we do to kill time when we’re home”. Essentially, it ended up being Bucky running lines in his dressing room even though he knew them by heart, and Steve drawing in one of the chairs in the middle of the ocean of seats where the usually very small audience sat. That’s where Bucky had found him.

“You know,” Bucky said after they’d been staring at the stage in silence for a few seconds. “I never did get to explore the little discovery I made last night.”

Steve breathed out a laugh. “Oh yeah? How come?”

“I just didn’t get the chance, I guess.”

“I bet you’re too scared.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You think so, huh?”

“I mean, I know every single weak spot on your body, so I don’t blame you.” Steve met his gaze with a grin.

“Don’t you look smug, Rogers.”

“Just telling it as I see it, Barnes.”

“You don’t know how strong I really am,” Bucky said. “I bet I can pin you down easily.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Steve probably wasn’t expecting Bucky to take his words so seriously, but truth be told the image of Steve laughing helplessly underneath him had been forming itself in Bucky’s mind ever since he’d left Steve’s apartment, so he couldn’t just _not_ reach out and attack the most common ticklish spots on Steve’s upper body.

And the reaction he got was glorious.

First of all, Bucky was unable to pounce properly unless he wanted to risk hurting Steve for real, so he’d had to settle for just hovering over him while his fingers explored, so Steve could easily escape, but he seemed to be the exact same as Bucky while being tickled. He started squirming as soon as Bucky’s fingers collided with his stomach, but the laughter that started pouring out almost instantly seemed to weaken him, so he just thrashed around in his seat while Bucky reduced him to a giggly mess.

Bucky couldn’t say he didn’t find it adorable.

“Aw, what’s wrong, Steve?” he teased, loving the way the tables had turned. “A bit ticklish maybe?”

Steve, bless him, managed to huff through his laughter. “Shut ihihit.”

Bucky squeezed and prodded and scratched at every surface he could reach. “Well, now you’re just being mean. It’s not like you started this or anything.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so damn ticklish!” Steve choked out in a rush.

Bucky shook his head. “Whatever you say, Steve.”

“As cute as this is,” a voice somewhere behind them suddenly said. “I’m afraid I must inform you that it’s time for the cast to start warming up.”

Bucky very reluctantly stilled his fingers and turned to look at Nat in disappointment. “You couldn’t wait two minutes? I’ve barely even touched him.”

Nat’s smirk was on its maximum level. “I’m sure you’ll have lots of time to do that later.”

With one last poke Bucky released Steve and turned to join Nat, but not before pointing at him and saying, “This isn’t over, Rogers.”

Steve’s nervous giggle was good enough for now.

* * *

 

Bucky seemed to pass Steve more often than usual that day, and he celebrated every meeting by reaching out and tickling whatever spot he could reach in his hurry. Each time he was rewarded with a squeak, a jump, a bat to his hand, and a glare that was probably meant to be menacing but wasn’t even close to being so.

“Stop it,” Steve whined with a laugh when Bucky managed to sneak in a good tickle to his ribs while passing him in the crowded corridor.

“I didn’t do anything,” Bucky denied with a grin.

“You suck,” Steve called back at him as they were being forced apart by what felt like hundreds of people wanting to pass, but was probably just about ten.

“When did you two get all lovey dovey?” Clint asked him as they made their way to their dressing room.

Bucky refused to look at him when he replied. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. As if you haven’t kissed each other already,” Sam said from somewhere behind them.

Bucky frowned. “Wait, how did you- I’m gonna kill Natasha one of these days.”

“Good luck with that,” Clint said with a smirk. “If you manage to kill her just know that she let you.”

It was a typical day at work, and other than their brief meetings Bucky didn’t see much of Steve until they had their regular half hour-long break before they had to start with the costumes and makeup and whatnot. Bucky usually used this time to run through his lines - not that he needed to - but since he’d already done that earlier in the day he decided to find some cozy corner and sit down and have some down time, and coincidentally he found Steve already sitting there doing the same.

“We keep meeting like this,” he said as he observed the way Steve quickly shut his notebook.

“We should make it a habit,” Steve replied with a soft smile.

Bucky pointed to the spot next to where Steve was perched on the floor. “May I?”

“Be my guest.”

Bucky slid down the wall and settled on Steve’s side; their arms and thighs touching. “How’s your day been?”

“Hectic,” Steve said with a sigh. “Which is weird considering we’ve been doing these shows for so long.”

“I know what you mean. Sometimes I feel as if we’re still in rehearsal.”

“I think it has something to do with that playwright guy everyone keeps talking about? The famous one who might come see the show?”

Bucky nodded. “That’s probably it. Now, if only we could actually know for sure if he’s coming to see us or not.”

Steve patted his knee sympathetically. “I can’t blame Fury for wanting everything to be impeccable.”

“Fancy words, Mr Rogers,” Bucky teased; giving Steve’s side a nudge with his elbow.

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m obviously trying to impress you. Stop ruining it.”

“I like smart guys, yes, but you don’t need to impress me at this point.”

“Is that so?”

“Uh huh.”

They were both looking at each other, their faces inches apart, and now would probably be a good time to lean in and press their lips together, but Bucky honestly couldn’t let this moment pass.

Steve was visibly surprised when, instead of doing what probably a lot of - willing and consenting - people would’ve done in this situation, Bucky’s hand found Steve’s neck, and he was fluttering his fingers lightly as Steve broke into panicky giggles immediately.

“Dahahamn yohohou!” Steve cried. “You keheheep ruining ihihit!”

“We’ll have more moments like this, don’t worry,” Bucky said, ignoring the sudden voice in the back of his head that exclaimed ‘ _What if you don’t?_ ’.

Steve fell to the side in a pathetic attempt to get away, but the only thing he managed to do was make Bucky able to straddle his hips, which he did, and boy was Bucky happy that Steve’s eyes were all scrunched up right now and he couldn’t tell how flustered the whole thing made him.

Not paying his burning face any mind, Bucky kept tickling Steve’s neck as if his life depended on it, and Steve was laughing and laughing and laughing and by the time Bucky had decided to switch spots before Steve pulled a muscle from scrunching up his shoulders so much he’d realized that he wanted to listen to Steve’s laughter forever and ever and ever.

“Now, how ticklish is your belly _really_ , Steve?”

Steve was sucking in as much oxygen as he could while Bucky started drumming on his midriff. “Would you believe me if I said not very?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then why do you ask-nohohoho!” As Bucky turned the drumming to light scratching Steve fell back into his nearly hysterical laughter, but this time it really did surpass that point.

As Steve’s hands flailed around quite uselessly and his heels dug into the floor in desperation, Bucky couldn’t help but think that this could be his life. He could spend his mornings tickling Steve just to have Steve get revenge in the evenings. Bedtime could mean laughter and proximity and various ways of touching. They could talk about anything and everything into the early hours of the day and regret it halfheartedly once their alarms rang. They could share their hopes and dreams while grabbing lunch, and hold hands as they walked into the theater. He could actually have that, if he didn’t mess things up. Please please don’t let him mess things up.

Bucky let his fingers slow down until they were just laying there on Steve’s shirt as he calmed down; gasping for the air that Bucky had deprived him of.

“Giving up already?” Steve challenged, his voice slightly hoarse.

Bucky gave a chuckle. “I just realized I’ll have more opportunities to torture you. Right now I’d rather do something else.”

Steve only got to look confused for approximately two seconds before Bucky started leaning down and stopping just above Steve’s face in case his actions were unwanted. But Steve just looked at him with hungry eyes, licked his lips, and closed the remaining gap between them himself.

Kissing someone while lying on top of them on the floor probably looked dirtier than it was, but truth be told Bucky had never felt anything purer than when he felt Steve’s lips against his own. This wasn’t their first kiss, obviously, but Bucky still wasn’t used to how gentle of a kisser Steve was. A guy with his appearance looked as if he’d be tough all over, so Bucky was enjoying discovering the softer side of him.

“Barnes, Rogers, I know you’re hiding behind that corner. I could hear you from miles away,” Natasha’s voice said in the distance, making Bucky almost fly off of Steve. “Out of respect for my eyesight I’m not going to walk in on you, but I should let you know that it’s time to start getting ready.”

Inhaling loudly through his nose, Steve called back, “We’ll be there in a sec.”

Nat didn’t reply, but they could hear her walk away.

“How does she always find us?” Steve asked, annoyance tangible in his voice.

Bucky heaved himself to his feet and held out a hand to help Steve do the same. “It’s probably your laughter.”

“And whose fault is that, huh? If you could just keep your hands to yourself no one would ever hear us,” Steve shot back as he bent down to pick up his notebook.

“Aw, you don’t really mean that.”

Steve snorted. “I don’t.” They started walking toward the dressing rooms. “But I must say, I prefer to be the handsy one.”

“Of course you do, but you’ll gonna have to get used to it.” Bucky made a move to give Steve’s ribs a poke, but Steve grabbed his hand before he was able to, forcing it down again and keeping it in his own grip as they walked. “Smooth.”

“Oh, shut it,” Steve replied, not looking at him. Bucky could detect the start of a blush, but decided not to point it out.

“You don’t have to act all defensive, you know,” he said instead. He didn’t have to say much more because Steve knew what he meant.

“I know, I know. I just can’t help it.”

“Understandable.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, still holding hands, ignoring the looks they got from the people they met along the way. With Nat’s babbling this wouldn’t be a secret soon anyway.

It was only once they reached the door to his dressing room that a thought occurred to Bucky, and he turned to Steve in horror, only for it to multiply when he was met by the sight of a mischievous grin.

“Time for me to paint all over your bare ticklish body,” Steve said cheerfully, letting go of his hand - Bucky couldn’t help but miss it already - and pushing the door open. “Payback’s a bitch, eh, Buck?”

Bucky had to admit that he’d had it coming.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky invites Steve over to his apartment. Confessions take place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual this has also been posted on my tumblr nhasablog.tumblr.com

At this point Bucky didn’t think he’d be too nervous about his and Steve’s date nights, but he was, and that resulted in him frantically rushing around his apartment to try to make everything seem tidier than it usually was. This was the first time Steve would see his place, after all, and even though Bucky knew he didn’t have to impress him he couldn’t help but try.

Of course he forgot to do the most vital thing, which was make sure they had something to eat since Bucky had essentially invited Steve over for dinner.

“Oh, god, I suck so much,” he moaned, running a hand over his face. “Why do you even want to hang out with me when I suck this much?”

Steve let out a laugh. “It’s okay, Buck. It happens to the best of us. This just gives me a reason to hold your hand as we walk to that chinese restaurant I passed on my way here.”

Bucky couldn’t help himself when he blurted out, “I don’t deserve you.”

Steve didn’t even blink when he said, “You deserve a lot more.”

So hand in hand they trudged, only letting go when they started fighting over who was gonna pay for the food, which ended up being Bucky because “you’re my guest, dammit”. As they walked back to the apartment, a takeout bag in each hand and each other in the other, Bucky asked Steve if he’d always lived in Brooklyn.

“I have,” Steve replied. “Not exactly close to where I live now, but I’ve always been around. What about you?”

“Same here,” Bucky said, his eyes sweeping over the neighborhood he’d always called his home. “I grew up just a few blocks away, actually.”

“We’re practically neighbors,” Steve commented, giving his hand a squeeze.

Bucky grinned. “Hopefully you’re quieter than that family who lives above me.”

“Hopefully you’re nicer than that old man who lives next door to me.”

As they steered their steps over the wet ground; the snow melting around them and radiating with the knowledge that it would only cause everything to become icier later on; they both pondered over how it would be, to find out if the other was loud in the evenings or mean in the mornings. If they talked in their sleep or sang in the shower. The entirety of his thoughts scared Bucky, because they weren’t the sort of wonderings one tended to make casually. Bucky couldn’t help but ask himself just how casual this whole thing actually was.

“I bet you won’t beat the nice lady on the bottom floor, though,” Steve added with a lopsided grin.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

“Obviously.”

Bucky punched in the code and held the door to the building open for him. “Challenge accepted.”

Talking to Steve was as easy as breathing. As they stuffed their faces with their newly purchased food the conversation flowed as if they’d known each other for years. Sure, some subjects were never touched, such as previous relationships, but that was expected. Love was patient, some would say. Bucky could definitely learn to be patient for Steve.

He cringed inwardly. He didn’t know when he’d started falling for the man before him, but it had happened without his knowledge, and now he was unable to stop it. Not that he wanted to stop it. Seeing Steve in the light of his kitchen, laughing in his chair, gripping the table he’d spent months hating because of how small it was; it was a liberating sight. It was as if Steve had always belonged there, and Bucky just hadn’t realized.

It wasn’t like they were strangers. Not really. Steve had spent months painting on his half-naked body; making Bucky laugh and squirm and flush almost everyday. They were familiar with each other, but it was the thought that this could lead somewhere that was new. This new perspective pleased Bucky. He didn’t need to be worried about falling for Steve too quickly. Not when he’d been falling slowly this entire time.

“You still with me?”

Bucky was woken up from his reverie by Steve waving a hand in front of his evidently blank face. He blinked once, twice, and then broke into a sheepish grin.

“Sorry,” he muttered, shaking his head. “My thoughts decided to be louder than usual. Rather rude of them, if I’m gonna be honest.”

Steve let out a laugh. “I get it. Once they take you as their hostage it’s hard to escape.”

“Great metaphor.”

“Why thank you.”

Bucky suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to share those thoughts with Steve, but decided against it. He ached to know if Steve felt the same, but he was also terrified that he would scare him away. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

But as the sun vanished completely and Bucky’s apartment became dusky enough for them to need to turn on a light to be able to see each other properly, he couldn’t help but let his mouth run as they settled on his couch.

“When I first moved in here I think I cried myself to sleep for three nights straight,” he said, unable to stop the words from leaving his lips. Something about the way Steve looked at him made him feel as if he didn’t have to feel embarrassed about confessing it.

“Oh?” Steve’s hand found its way to his. “How come?”

“I think I was just overwhelmed. It was my first apartment after leaving home and… I guess I was just so happy and terrified at the same time that I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Completely understandable.”

“How about you, then?” Bucky rubbed his thumb over Steve’s hand absentmindedly. “Have you cried for no valid reason?”

Steve hummed, his eyes sweeping around the room for a moment before replying. “When I got my first job. Makeup artist job, at least. It was one of those first jobs where the pay was awful, but you stayed because you needed the experience.”

“Did you cry because of the money?”

Steve shook his head slowly. “No. Starving artists learn how to get by. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

Bucky nodded. That he did.

“I cried because I was certain that I would mess something up. The whole prospect of having a job that I loved terrified me, because I knew it’d crush me if things didn’t work out. Getting fired from a job that does nothing for me but allow me to put food on the table isn’t as awful as getting fired from a job I love.”

“I get it,” Bucky said. “I’m pretty sure I cried when I got this acting job as well.”

“Cried out of fear for my brush, I’m sure,” Steve remarked, smirking teasingly at him.

Bucky nodded mock seriously. “Your brush has kept me up for months now.”

“I’m sure it has.”

“Don’t you feel just a little bit sorry for me?”

“Not at all.”

“You’re mean. You know what I do to mean people?”

Steve saw it coming of course, so instead of Bucky launching a one sided tickle attack they ended up in a full on wrestling match. Both of them were able to get in some good pokes and squeezes, but mostly they were just blocking each other. The apartment still got filled with their mingling laughter.

“We’re children,” Bucky commented after Steve had managed to give his neck a good tickle that had caused him to automatically stand and sprint away from the couch.

“That’s not a bad thing,” Steve said, grinning hugely at him. He was slightly out of breath, and his face had already gone a bit pink. Bucky found him so attractive that it almost physically hurt.

He returned to his seat warily, narrowing his eyes when Steve scooted closer to him.

“If you tickle me I will-”

“What?” Steve cut him off, tilting his head at him in amusement. “You like it, don’t you?”

“Stop saying that,” Bucky pleaded, his face burning.

“But I like seeing you flustered.” Steve’s grin sobered up though. “It’s okay, Buck. Really.”

Bucky suddenly found the floor extremely interesting. “How did you know?” he mumbled, not sure how the conversation had been directed to this subject. Not sure if he minded it as much as his bodily reactions suggested.

“I’ve spent the past few months inadvertently tickling you,” Steve said, his voice softer than before. “It’s hard to not notice that you don’t hate it as much as some other people would.”

“I like it,” Bucky started, pausing when he realized how freeing it was to say it aloud. “It’s fun and makes me feel safe if it’s with the right person. I mean…” He saw Steve smiling at his unintentional confession from the corner of his eye. “I just like it,” he finished, somewhat lamely.

“And I think it’s adorable.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Bucky finally glanced up to catch his eye. “You have to stop tickling me in public, though.”

Now it was Steve’s time to look sheepish. “Can’t help it,” he said apologetically. “I’ll try to save the tickles for when we’re behind closed doors from now on.”

Bucky flushed at the thought. “Good.”

“Is it?”

“Shut up.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “Sorry.” He reached out for Bucky’s hand, playing with his fingers for a few seconds before adding, “Tickling you is fun.”

Bucky shook his head. “You’re such a tease.”

“You love it.”

“Maybe I do.”

They were silent for a moment; Steve still holding Bucky’s hand. A dog barked outside, and Bucky caught the sound of people laughing as they probably made their way through the street drunkenly. The outside world was like it always had, yet in here it was as if Bucky’s whole life had been turned upside down the moment Steve walked into it. It was a good disarray, though. One Bucky didn’t want to fix.

“I’ve never considered tickling being something I enjoy,” Steve said suddenly, looking up at him. “But I’ve been trying to understand what it is that you like about it, and I think I get it now. And with you tickling me last week…” He trailed off, and Bucky could’ve sworn that a light blush was spreading over his neck. “It turns out I don’t hate it as much as I thought I did. At least not with the right person.”

Bucky felt like he was floating. “That’s nice.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

“Yes.”

Steve smiled. “Though I’d much rather tickle you than be on the receiving end.”

“Oh, trust me, you’ll be on the receiving end from time to time.”

“I’m okay with that.” Steve suddenly looked mischievous. “Kinda wanna tickle you right now.”

Bucky’s heart was racing. “Then why don’t you?”

Steve reached for his other hand, gripping his wrists together while using his free hand to point at him. “I think I will.”

With his extended finger he started poking at Bucky’s ribs, making him squirm as a giddy smile found his lips. He pulled at his arms instinctively, but Steve’s grip was strong. Bucky was immensely happy for that.

Steve was gentle that day; torturing his upper body without saying a word. To not have his teasing words accompany his skilled fingers made Bucky a bit less sensitive, so he never fully reached the point of hysteria.

That didn’t mean that the apartment wasn’t filled with his laughter only seconds into the session.

He leaned away from Steve, but he only followed; making sure Bucky’s hands were still properly trapped so that he wasn’t able to use them to defend himself. The tickling fingers dug into his skin gently; making his body tingle.

“You’re so gohohood at thihis,” he giggled out, knowing full well that his face was all scrunched up and not minding it at all.

“Oh, I know. But to be fair you’re quite easy to tickle.” Steve paused, grinning at him. “Is there a spot you’re not ticklish on?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Obviously.”

“How about here?” Steve wiggled his fingers over Bucky’s shin, but the kick he got in return told him everything he needed to know. “Here?” He scratched at his forearm, but even that made him squirm. “How about your ears? Those can’t be ticklish.”

But they were, and Bucky was giggling helplessly within seconds. It all seemed to be very amusing to Steve.

“Boy, am I going to have fun with you,” he said, releasing Bucky’s hands.

Bucky crossed his arms. “Don’t be so smug about it.”

“Can’t help it.”

Bucky decided to forgive him when he leaned in for a kiss. He’d probably forgive Steve for anything just to feel his lips on his own.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A famous playwright is coming to see their show and Bucky is freaking out, so Steve needs to help calm him down.

Bucky was used to laughing a lot more these days than he could ever remember doing before, but right now was the first time in ages that he was getting slightly annoyed at Steve’s persistent fingers. Yes, he still loved it, but Steve was distracting him from running through the lines he already knew my heart, and nothing bothered him more than being interrupted when working.

“Stop it!”

“I’m helping you! You’ve got to be prepared for anything up there.”

“I doubt someone will tickle me.”

“Who knows?”

Bucky had been lying on his couch as per usual this time of the day, but Steve had appeared in his dressing room a lot earlier than he needed to, and Bucky had been torn between being happy to see him and wanting him to go away so that he could finish working. Steve had promised to be quiet and had then proceeded to perch himself down on Bucky’s legs. Despite the slight pain that caused him Bucky was fine with it, but it didn’t take long until Steve was lightly dragging his fingers over his stomach; making him squirm and lose his place in the script. Steve, that asshole, just kept going until Bucky started laughing.

“Come on, you jeheherk!” Bucky tried to grab his wrists, but Steve was way too quick for him, so he just ended up flailing his hands around quite uselessly.

“Power through it, Buck!” Steve said with a smirk.

Bucky sat up as much as he could with Steve keeping his legs in place. “Don’t be mehehean!”

Bucky was able to block Steve’s hands now, so he just let them fall in defeat. “You’re so cute.”

“And you’re annoying,” Bucky snapped back, sneaking his own fingers between Steve’s arms to give his ribs a brief tickle. “And a distraction.”

“You love it,” Steve teased, pushing his hands away before pressing his lips to his temple. “Admit it.”

“I do not.”

“Uh huh.”

“I don’t.”

“Right.”

Bucky couldn’t hold back his smile as Steve ran the tip of his rather cold nose along his jaw. “I don’t.”

“I believe you,” Steve mumbled against his skin. “Totally believe you.”

“Oh, fuck, my poor eyes.”

They broke apart in a less panicked manner than Bucky would’ve thought; staring at Clint tiredly as he made a show out of covering his eyes with his hands.

“You’ve scarred me for life,” he cried dramatically.

Steve rolled his eyes and heaved himself off of Bucky just as Sam entered the room. “What’s going on?”

Clint pointed in their general direction without uncovering his eyes. “I walked in on them!”

Sam turned to raise an eyebrow at them. “”Wha-”

“We weren’t even kissing,” Bucky interrupted, feeling slightly annoyed.

“You might as well have been!”

“You’re just overreacting.”

Clint finally dropped his hands. “Actually I am. It’s fun to mess with you.”

“So you’re official then?” Sam asked as he sat down at his dressing table.

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, but didn’t say a word. They hadn’t discussed it yet, and quite frankly Bucky didn’t want to do so in front of his cast mates. Steve opened his mouth, but was cut off by Clint suddenly letting out a loud “Hey!” that made Bucky jump.

“I almost forgot!” Clint continued as if he hadn’t scared Bucky half to death. “You know that playwright everyone has been talking about? He’s actually coming to the show.”

Bucky suddenly forgot all about whatever the hell they’d been talking about before. “He…what?”

Clint grinned hugely at him. “He’s coming to see us tonight.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“For once I swear I’m not.”

Sam was smiling too, so Bucky knew Clint wasn’t lying. “He… Oh, fuck.” Bucky fell back, as if he was about to faint.

“Hey, woah, you okay?”

“Bucky, what-”

“Shit, someone get some water-”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Bucky choked out; shaking their hands off where he had curled up on the couch. “I just got dizzy.”

Clint almost looked more worried than all of them. “Will you be all right?”

Bucky waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. I think I just got shocked by the news.”

Clint and Sam backed off reluctantly, but Steve remained at his side, albeit slightly further away than before. He was quieter than the others.

Sam grabbed a banana from his dressing table and chucked it at him. “Eat this.”

“I’m not-”

“It’ll help.”

Bucky accepted it obediently. “Thanks.”

“We’ll give you some space,” Clint said, looking at Steve rather than at Bucky. “You…help calm him down. Or something.”

Steve nodded and waved as the two actors left the room. “I will.”

“I’m fine,” Bucky said as soon as the door swung shut. “I promise.”

“I believe you.”

“You don’t sound like it.”

Steve gave him a soft smile. “You started panicking.”

“But I’m fine now.”

“I know.” A pause, then, “Eat your banana.”

Bucky did as he was told.

The rest of the day was a blur for him. When Steve had to leave to go do his job Bucky started reading lines again; this time almost obsessively. He had to get it all right. Had to. Sam and Clint didn’t attempt to talk to him when they returned, but he could feel them sending him looks. He ignored them each time.

“I’m here to make you squirm.”

Bucky looked up at Steve who had just slipped into the room, indicating that Clint and Sam should slip out, which they did.

“Again? You do that a lot,” Bucky replied, putting his worn script to the side.

Steve shrugged. “It’s a habit at this point.”

“Do you think you can break it?”

“Not sure I really want to.”

Bucky smiled, and it felt _good_. He felt like he hadn’t smiled in ages when in fact it was only a few hours. “Not sure I’d want you to either.”

Only today he sort of did. Steve’s brush against his sensitive skin was such a common thing now that he knew exactly how he would react to it, but he found himself getting more and more annoyed today, and eventually asked Steve to put his script on the desk in front of him so that he could run lines at the same time.

Apparently that was a hard thing to do while giggling like a maniac.

“I dohon’t like this todahahay,” he said, holding himself back from pushing Steve away as he painted on his lower ribs.

“That’s because you’re freaking out over that playwright,” Steve retorted.

Bucky clenched his fists in ticklish agony. “I didn’t think I’d stop enjoying things due toho nerves.”

“You never quite know how you’re going to react to unexpected things.” Steve didn’t sound like he was enjoying himself either, and Bucky could tell it was because he knew Bucky would rather be doing something else right now, for once.

“Are you done soon?”

“One second.” And he meant one second. One last sweep to Bucky’s rib cage and Steve was backing off, admiring his work. “All set.”

Bucky relaxed. “Great.”

“I’ll be back in twenty minutes to talk some sense into you so you’ll stop freaking out, okay?” Steve said, packing up his things with the speed of light.

Bucky frowned. “You don’t need to.”

“Oh, I really do.” And he left.

Bucky sighed and glanced at his script. He knew Steve really needed to, but it wasn’t making him feel any better in that moment.

“I’m going to fuck up,” he mumbled, swaying on the spot as he waited for the paint to dry properly. “I’m going to fuck everything up.” Repeating those words to himself ended up with him properly panicking once Steve returned.

“It’s fine! You’re gonna be fine,” Steve told him, pushing him down on the couch. “Hey, listen to me. You’re going to be fine.”

“But what if I don’t? Our show’s gonna end up with either no reviews or really shitty ones and Fury’s gonna be pissed and fire me and I will be even more broke than I am and then get evicted and you will dump me and I will be useless and-”

Steve gently slapped his palm over Bucky’s mouth. “I want you to shut up right now.”

Bucky mumbled something along the lines of “Why are you so brutal?” against the skin, but then did as he was told.

Steve let his hand fall down; his fingers finding the loop of Bucky’s pants instead. He held onto it briefly before letting go again. Bucky was glad that he was covered in green paint because he knew his face shouldn’t feel that hot.

“Repeat after me,” Steve said, his eyes only slightly hesitant to meet Bucky’s. “It’s all going to be fine.”

Bucky exhaled loudly; making a few strands of hair on Steve’s head dance. “It’s all going to be fine.”

“Good. Now; do you know all your lines?”

“By heart.”

“Have you ever messed up a show?”

“Never.”

“Are you aware of the fact that it’s completely fine to make mistakes and you can’t be perfect all the time?”

“I am.”

“And so is that playwright.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “I’m still nervous.”

“And that’s fine, as long as you don’t panic because of it.” Steve reached out to grab his hand; playing with his fingers idly. “You’re a great actor. Think of this as your first big challenge. I know it won’t be the last.” Steve brought Bucky’s hand to his lips; kissing it gently.

Bucky shook his head. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“I ask myself the same thing everyday.”

Bucky was expecting Clint to appear the whole time he had his lips pressed to Steve’s, but once he pulled away they were still alone; bodies pressed together, faces inches apart. It felt as natural as breathing.

“Promise you won’t replace me with some hot shot celebrity once you’re a famous actor,” Steve whispered, grinning warmly as Bucky gave a laugh.

“I’ve already got the best deal, don’t worry.”

Fury, of all people, suddenly stuck his head into the room and didn’t even bat an eye at the scene in front of him. “It’s almost showtime. Get your ass out here.” He was gone as soon as he appeared. It would almost be comical had the situation been different.

Bucky took a deep breath. “Fuck.”

Steve tilted his head. “I love it when you swear.”

“You’ll probably hear a lot of it, no matter tonight’s results.”

Steve placed his hands on Bucky’s sides. “Hey, no negativity.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve; hiding his face in his neck. “Can’t help it.”

“I can.”

Bucky almost pushed Steve into his desk when the hands on his sides suddenly started squeezing them mercilessly.

“Shihit!” Bucky exclaimed, laughing loudly because Steve had managed to get that _one spot_ that made it all unbearable.

“There we go! Laughter always helps, doesn’t it?” Steve said cheerfully; not minding that Bucky was now almost crushing him against the wall in his attempt to push him away.

Bucky would never admit how good it felt to be in this position.

Five minutes later, as he was entering the stage, he forgot all about that playwright, all about his worries, and even all about Steve. He had a part to play.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony throws a party and things go down between Steve and Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had sooo many different versions of how this chapter was going to go, but I think I’m pretty happy with the result. This is the longest BTS chapter so far, and I hope you all like it! Especially since I went through hell to write it. Seriously. The first half was written almost effortlessly, and the second was accompanied by me screaming “THIS IS A MESS” several times. For real.
> 
> Warnings: Almost everyone is kinda tipsy, but tbh they sober up pretty quickly. Also the sexual tension between Steve and Bucky is slightly more noticeable in this part, I would say.

“I don’t care. You’re both coming.”

Steve held up his hands in defeat. “Okay, okay. We’re coming.”

Tony grinned; hugely and smugly and kind of endearingly. “Oh, good! I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” He gave Steve’s arm a pat and was off to hunt down someone else to persuade - or force - to come to the party he’d decided to throw midway through that night’s show. At least that’s what he told Steve. Bucky was standing behind him, still shaking with adrenaline from being on stage. He thought he’d never feel as good as he did after he’d done a successful show on that stage.

Steve turned to him, his brow slightly furrowed. “I hope you don’t mind that I agreed? We don’t have to go if you’d rather go home. I mean-” He cut himself off, and Bucky found the suddenly flustered tone his voice carried to be all sorts of adorable. “You can go home and I can go to the party. Wow, that sounded rude. What I’m trying to say is- why are you looking at me like that?”

Bucky had lost the battle against his amusement and was smiling.” Because I find you fumbling over your words to be the highlight of my night.” He didn’t want to say cute. That would just embarrass them both in that moment.

Steve let out a laugh. “Better than performing in front of that playwright?”

Bucky felt his smile pack up its things and leave him. “Please don’t remind me. I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Hey, hey.” Steve reached out to grab his hand, as if trying to calm him. Or maybe to show that he was right there with him. Either way, it helped. “You don’t have to worry about that. You were phenomenal up there. If he didn’t like it then that’s his problem.”

Bucky exhaled loudly, slowly. “You’re right. Okay. You think Tony’s gonna provide the booze or should we go pick something up?”

* * *

 

Bucky knew he’d had too much alcohol in a too short amount of time the very moment he started giggling. Bucky didn’t _giggle_ other than when Steve had his hands - or brush - all over him. But as he was sitting there on Tony’s huge, shiny leather couch - that had obviously given him a heart attack at first sight because _what if I spill something, Steve?!_ \- he craned his neck to better hear the story that Sam was sharing, waited for the punchline, and then promptly burst into giggles even though he was sure the actual joke wasn’t as funny as he made it seem to be. Nevertheless, he wasn’t the only one acting high as a kite.

Sam was having the time of his life laughing at his own joke; so much so that he was leaning into Steve who was sitting beside him. In the midst of all the laughter Bucky could feel a small sting of jealousy, but he didn’t pay it any mind. He was, after all, all but sitting on Steve’s lap right now.

“To give the others more space,” he’d reasoned, and Steve had only nodded mock seriously as if he hadn’t been able to see through his lies.

Steve was also laughing at the joke, though he seemed to be slightly less tipsy than Bucky. Nat was on Sam’s other side, and her smile told Bucky that she was very much sober and was judging them all and would report back the next day with all the embarrassing details. Bucky got the sudden urge to grab Steve and go hide somewhere where people couldn’t see them.

Before he could propose this, however, Steve turned to him with the biggest smile Bucky had ever seen. “You’re giggling!”

“Am not!” Because even while being a giggly, dizzy mess Bucky felt the need to get defensive for absolutely no reason.

Steve propped his chin against Bucky’s arm. “Oh, but you are.”

Bucky snorted and leaned back a bit so that his legs were almost on Sam’s lap. “What about it?”

Steve shrugged. “Nothing. I just think it’s adorable. You usually only do it when I have you at my mercy.”

Ah, so Steve had noticed that too. Bucky liked that he was observant.

The alcohol in his system made him at least _feel_ like he wasn’t blushing, because he felt way too hot anyway. Only moments before he’d been contemplating taking his shirt off or something, but he got worried that Steve wouldn’t have been able to keep his evil fingers to himself.

He was also worried that he would show every single person in the cast and crew just how much he actually enjoyed those evil fingers and their evil ways.

Steve reached out, making him tense up at first only to relax when the hand found his hair; tangling into it. Bucky hummed, enjoying the contact. Enjoying the moment. Enjoying the lightheadedness and the carefreeness.

He didn’t enjoy Sam’s wiggling eyebrows nor his merciless gaze, but Nat, bless her, sorted that out for him by grabbing Sam’s face and physically forcing him to look away. Bucky started giggling again, because the sight was just too funny. Sam’s surprised expression was too funny. Nat’s knowing smirk was too funny.

Steve smiled at him, teeth and all. “Giggling again.”

“Leave me alone,” Bucky whined, his giggles fading out. “You didn’t see what I just saw.”

“You’re right. I didn’t.”

Steve let his hand travel downwards, trailing his fingertips over the side of his neck, his shoulder, his arm. He only stopped once he’d reached his midriff, and Bucky didn’t even get the chance to brace himself, but Steve simply stayed there, letting his hand rest just above Bucky’s navel.

“Are they being gross?” Sam asked, because Natasha wasn’t letting him turn back around.

Nat made a show of leaning sideways to look at them, frowning in confusion, and turning back to Sam. “Not as gross as they could be.”

“Give them another hour then.”

“We’re right here, you know,” Steve commented, and Bucky was glad for it. He had a vague feeling that his own words would be all slurred.

The music wasn’t as loud as one would think; at least not in that room. Bucky had witnessed Tony and Clint breaking out their best moves a few rooms over, but seeing as he wasn’t even remotely close to being a dancer he’d grabbed Steve’s hand and dragged him away, and Steve had been suspiciously fine with it. They’d piled onto the leather couch with Nat and Sam at their heels and downed their booze calmly. He shouldn’t be as surprised as he was when Tony was suddenly all up their faces and demanded that they dance.

“You and you.” He pointed straight at Steve and Bucky. “Up. Now.”

“Can’t. I’ve got a lapful of Bucky Barnes,” Steve replied. He didn’t sound very sorry about it.

“And I’m comfy,” Bucky said with a shrug. “So no can do.” He didn’t think Sam and Nat would take Tony’s side and push them off the couch.

“Go dance, you idiots,” Nat told them. “You both know you want to.”

One look at Steve told Bucky that he would rather do anything else. Bucky shared that feeling.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing Steve’s hand and ignoring Sam’s disgusted sound in order to pull him in. “Let’s humor them.” He leaned closer as they started walking away and murmured, “I’ve got a plan.”

The plan was a very simple one. As soon as Tony had abandoned them on the dance floor they spun around and rushed back from where they came from as if their lives depended on it, only this time they didn’t rejoin Sam and Nat on the couch. Instead they pushed past what felt like hundreds of people - there were probably not even 50 of them, though - and made their way through Tony’s gigantic house until they’d left the chaos behind.

They only stopped when they’d reached a secluded corner of the mansion-like house that took the form of an office; both of them panting slightly from the thrill of their flight. Bucky had a hard time believing that he hadn’t looked ridiculous while trying to run in his slightly tipsy state. He still felt dizzy.

“Whew.” Steve leaned against the wall, the smile on his face announcing that he was filled with adrenalin. “How long do you think it’ll take until they realize we’ve disappeared?”

“Honestly.” Bucky crossed his arms and looked around the room. “They’ll probably think we’re doing things they don’t want to witness.” He paused briefly to glance at Steve, just to see what sort of effect his words had on him. Steve was biting his lower lip, and it was doing things to Bucky’s - intoxicated - mind, so he averted his gaze and pointed at something behind Steve. “That’s a lot of books.”

Steve looked to where he was indicating. “It is.”

A lot of books was sort of an understatement. The only way they could actually tell that this room was an office and not a straight up library was the desk by the window that had a sign hanging above it on the wall which said ‘Office Sweet Office’. Bucky wondered if Tony ever did any actual work in here or if it was purely there for appearances. He wondered if he’d read all the books. He wondered if _he_ would ever have a room like this in a future home.

He walked closer to Steve to observe the countless titles on the wooden shelves. “Great selection.”

“Have you read any of these?”

“Like five of them maybe.”

“Only 995 to go then.”

Bucky barked out a laugh. “I better get to work.”

They smiled at each other in a way that made it clear that, while they weren’t exactly sober, they weren’t as tipsy as before. Bucky felt lightheaded, but his mind wasn’t as cloudy as it had been earlier. It was easier to him to realize that Steve was too close, the room too small.

Steve’s gaze, switching from Bucky’s eyes to his lips, made him feel as if he was on fire. “Should we get back or?”

Bucky’s nod was almost nonexistent. “Yeah.” He took a step and closed the gap between them. “Or.”

He didn’t care if he’d wake up the next day and regret having made out with Steve in Tony’s office. He didn’t even care that the possibility of someone walking in on them was bigger than ever. All he cared about was Steve’s lips on his own, their bodies pressed together with Steve’s back against the wall. He cared about Steve’s hands sliding down his back and stopping at the hem of his shirt, lingering, not asking for permission just yet. He cared about Steve’s eagerness to let him in once Bucky started running his tongue over his lip. He cared about them being close enough to morph into one.

“This is wrong,” Steve muttered into his mouth.

“What do you mean?” Bucky replied, his own hands trapped between them, gripping the front of Steve’s shirt tightly.

“We’re in Tony’s home.”

“Let’s be honest here.” Bucky broke away to smirk at him. “He probably expected this to happen.”

He witnessed the corner of Steve’s lips twitch upwards, but missed the actual smile because he dived back in again.

Steve’s fingers played with the hem of his shirt, the movements slightly hesitant. Bucky could tell he was asking a silent question, and he answered by lifting the shirt up a bit himself so that Steve’s hands touched bare skin.

“Is this okay?” Steve asked, pulling away just an inch or two.

Bucky nodded slightly too eagerly. “Yes, of course.”

Steve’s fingers were drumming over his lower back. “Hopefully it won’t tickle too much.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “You’re awful.”

Steve grinned. Bucky could tell from the way his eyes crinkled. “You love me.”

They both let the statement linger in the air, untouched, neither denied nor confirmed. Bucky was glad when Steve was the one to lean in this time. He didn’t even mind it when Steve started trailing his fingers over his sensitive skin. It felt much too nice for him to mind it.

But of course his body reacted to it, and he was soon giggling into Steve’s mouth, which made him wish he could disappear rather than stay in the moment forever. Talk about contrasts.

“I’m sohorry.”

Steve pulled back again, but his fingers kept going. “It’s all right. This is exactly what I wanted.”

Bucky backed away automatically so that he was out of Steve’s reach. “Like I said. You’re awful.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

Bucky knew he wasn’t tipsy anymore, because he could feel his whole face burn. “Because I can still feel your fingertips on my skin.”

“How poetic.” Steve took a step closer to him and opened his arms. “Come here, you.”

But Bucky could tell that if the moment got any more heated than it’d been before they’d both end up regretting moving so quickly, so, with the assumption that they would get more opportunities like this, he opted for the next best thing: playfulness.

“You’re gonna have to catch me first.” He rushed out of the room almost as quickly as he’d entered it, but this time Steve was at his heels for completely different reasons.

He ran toward the direction they’d come from, crashed into more than a couple of people and eventually jumped back onto the couch. He quickly realized that this was a bad idea for two reasons. One, because in their absence Clint had decided to take their previous place, and two, because as Bucky landed in between Sam and Clint, Steve was on top of him immediately, which probably hurt more people than intended. Neither of them had counted on the spot being occupied, so it was a mess of limbs and limited space. Not to mention that Steve was able to get his hands on Bucky as much as he pleased in this position.

“Why do I suddenly have a lapful of Rogers and Barnes?” Clint deadpanned.

Bucky was giggling in his trapped state, because just being aware of the fact that Steve and his evil fingers were above him made him feel ten times more sensitive.

Steve was grinning nonchalantly where he was perched. “Because Barnes was stupid enough to challenge me.”

“Oh, god, is this a weird sex thing? I don’t want to know.”

Bucky was suddenly glad that Steve’s body was hiding him from view.

Steve snorted. “Oh, yes.” He started poking at Bucky’s ribcage, making him giggle even more. “This is obviously a sex thing.”

“Stop it!” Bucky cried, accidentally hitting Sam in the face with his flailing hand. “Steve, I can’t breheheathe!”

“And I nearly lost an eye,” Sam declared, reaching out to prod at Steve’s stomach. “Do that somewhere else, will you?”

Steve jerked away from the touch. “Don’t.”

“Go be gross with your boyfriend somewhere else.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Steve replied as he heaved himself off of Bucky in order to stand up. “And don’t believe for a second that I won’t take revenge for those pokes.” And with that Steve was leaning over Sam instead, his fingers setting to work in a way that made Sam burst into laughter instantly. They were all so busy that they didn’t notice Bucky slipping away, out of the room, and into the bathroom on the other side of the house.

He stayed there until he’d stopped feeling like he’d been slapped in the face.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky wakes up in Steve’s bedroom without any memory of how he’d ended up here. The only thing he knows is that he’s mad at Steve and they’re probably over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and swearing. Me warning you about it sounds silly, but better safe than sorry.
> 
> Also posted on my [tumblr](http://nhasablog.tumblr.com) (look who finally learned how to post links here)

He had a headache. That was the first thing he realized. His body felt heavy. That was the second thing. Impossibly, his eyelids felt even heavier, and to crack them open would be too much effort, so he kept them shut, like a shield protecting his eyes and mind from the reality the morning would bring.

He assumed it was morning. The light of the room tried to force its way under his lids in a way that night time would never even dream to attempt. Mornings were rude, rushed, loaded with tension from the promise of what the day would hold. People always said mornings were like a fresh start, but to Bucky they were a period of the day he’d rather skip, and he usually did just that by sleeping until midday. The world seemed too quiet for it to be midday right now.

He rolled over, eyes still shut, and buried his face in his pillow. It was soft and cool and smelled just like Steve, and that last fact took a while to process. Once it did he opened his eyes in panic, which was of course exactly how he’d wanted the day to begin.

He didn’t even have to be fully awake to master the art of  sarcasm apparently.

Bucky wasn’t in his own room, for starters. That was the first thing he realized. Steve was nowhere in sight though, and that was the second thing. Sitting up properly, he took a look around the room. It had to be Steve’s. Small details just had Steve’s name written all over it.

He had no memory of how he’d ended up here.

He couldn’t tell if Steve had, at one point, been in the bed with him or not. Not knowing freaked him out. What the fuck had happened last night?

Slowly, tentatively, he slipped out of the bed, the covers falling from his body in the process and exposing it to the cold air. He was still fully dressed, socks and all. He let out a relieved breath. Nothing had happened. It couldn’t have happened. Not if he woke up in his current state.

One glance at the clock told him it was just past 7:30 in the morning. It was the weekend, so people were probably just falling into a deep sleep. He knew he wouldn’t be able to join them.

“Okay, Barnes,” he muttered to himself. “What do we do now?”

Resisting the urge to go and hide under the covers, Bucky inched closer to the door. It was closed, and the idea that literally anything could be behind it didn’t calm him down at all. He had never been much for mysteries. They were way too mysterious.

With bated breath he pushed the door open, expecting everything to be in ruins. What he got was Steve’s apartment looking exactly like it usually did, with the exception of Steve being curled up on the couch, sleeping soundly. Bucky looked at him, took in the way he didn’t even stir. He looked good while asleep, Bucky had to admit. It pissed him off immensely.

He backed into the bedroom again, searching for the rest of his things. He was going to be out of here before Steve could even begin to consider waking up.

Problem was he couldn’t find his phone anywhere.

“Dammit,” he hissed, his hushed voice slicing through the silence of the morning. He stood in the middle of the room, his head flying this way and that, but still he ended up with no luck. His phone didn’t seem to be in the room.

Wondering idly if he’d left it somewhere, Bucky padded back out of the room again. He paused just outside, his gaze on Steve’s immobile form. Would it be rude to leave without waking him?

His mind quickly pushed that thought away when he spotted his phone lying on the coffee table next to Steve. It was just visible from where Bucky was standing; taunting him. He bit his lip, almost drawing blood. Just yesterday he wouldn’t even have dreamt of feeling like this. Of wishing to get away from Steve’s presence. Of dreading the moment their eyes would meet.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

“Buck?”

Bucky exhaled louder than necessary. Of course Steve would wake up. God, it was like a bad movie that would end with them kissing in the rain or something.

He looked at Steve, not sure of how to act, how to even stand. He crossed his arms, never fully meeting Steve’s gaze. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Oh, you didn’t, don’t worry.” There was something in Steve’s voice that Bucky had never heard before. Something wary, hesitating. It hurt more than he would’ve liked it to.

Refraining from grabbing his phone and bolting, Bucky gestured to the general air around him. “I don’t really remember how I ended up here.”

“I’m not surprised in the slightest.” Steve sounded rather annoyed now.

 _I did that_ , Bucky thought miserably and then promptly set his jaw. Steve had made him mad, too.

When Bucky didn’t reply Steve elaborated with, “You basically got so drunk you could barely stand. No way in hell was I leaving you alone like that.”

“Why are you pissed?” Bucky snapped, not fully understanding it. If someone was going to be mad it was going to be Bucky.

“Because you just disappeared for over an hour and when we finally found you you were chugging a bottle alone in a bathroom. I think I have the right to be pissed at you for being so stupid.”

“Wow, thanks dad.”

Steve flew off the couch now; his stance screaming at Bucky to back down. “What has gotten into you?”

“Well, where should I start?” Bucky replied, his voice as sour as he could make it.

“How about the beginning? What _happened_ that made you take off like that?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

A silence found them, hanging over them as they both fumed. Bucky didn’t even know why he cared.

Oh yes, he was a liar.

“Why don’t you just-” Steve cut himself off, looking away from Bucky in exasperation. “Go shower. I’ll make us something to eat and we can both just cool down and talk about it.” It wasn’t a question.

Bucky didn’t see why he should protest.

It felt weird to be in Steve’s shower; to know that he’d been naked in there countless of times. Bucky had never really expected the feeling of the water hitting his back as he reached for Steve’s soap to be a bad experience, yet here he was, wishing he could be anywhere else. Funny how life worked sometimes.

He had to admit that it helped, and once he stepped out of the bathroom he felt better. His head was still pounding and his body felt weak, but the fire inside of him had died down. Now he just felt tired.

The smell of pancakes reached his nostrils. He hadn’t expected Steve to actually cook something after that. He felt a guilty lump form in his gut. He had to remind himself that his anger had been justifiable. Anger was a secondary emotion. He had been hurt first.

“So,” Steve said as he entered the kitchen. “Our first sleepover didn’t really go as planned.”

Bucky huffed out a small laugh, though the lack of mirth was audible. “Had you been planning it?”

Steve didn’t smile or blush or smirk or anything. He simply said, “Couldn’t help it.”

This was bad.

They sat, they ate, they refused to look at each other. Bucky felt physically better after each bite, but mentally he was a mess. His head, his heart and his soul were all going through crisis after crisis, and all in the span of five minutes. He longed to breathe properly again.

He glanced up, not sure if he was glad or not that Steve wasn’t looking at him. “Did I… Did I act like an asshole last night? Did I offend people?” He wasn’t a bad drunk per se, but it had been a while since he’d been smashed after all. He couldn’t be sure that he didn’t turn into a monster when he lost control.

Steve shook his head, meeting his eyes at last. “No, no. You were just - you weren’t really making sense most of the time.” He paused, putting his fork down. “You did say you never wanted to see me again, and you kept trying to get away from me, so I’m guessing I had something to do with the sudden change of mood.” He said all this slowly, calmly, and that’s how Bucky knew he was hurting.

He swallowed thickly. “It’s gonna sound stupid now.” It _was_ stupid, but even stupid things could get the biggest reaction.

Steve leaned back a bit, observing him. “Go ahead then.”

Bucky averted his eyes. “Us hanging out, going on dates, kissing. It just made me think that we had something.” He scrambled to continue when Steve didn’t reply. “But last night you… Well, you said I wasn’t your boyfriend and something in me just snapped.” He hadn’t expected Steve as shocked as he did. He shook his head. “Told you it was stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Steve was quick to say. “Just - god, _Bucky_.” He leaned forward again, his penetrating eyes looking into Bucky’s soul. “I only said that because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“What do you mean?”

“We never established what we were. We never put a label on it. I didn’t want you to feel forced to. Admittedly I shouldn’t have said it like that. I can see why it upset you.” Steve reached out for his hand, seemed to change his mind, and let it rest in the middle of the table instead. “I never meant that I didn’t _want_ you to be my boyfriend.”

Bucky felt so many emotions, but they were all pretty much overruled by relief. “Really?”

Steve nodded eagerly. “Of course. I _like_ you. I just didn’t want to mess things up.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess that last part didn’t work out that well, though.”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m as much to blame for that. I should’ve just talked to you from the beginning, instead of relying on a bottle.”

“Yeah, about that.” Steve’s voice sounded serious now. “Is that something that happens often? Do you have a, uh, problem we need to sort out?”

It took a second for Bucky to realize what he meant. “Oh, no, no, no! I rarely drink, actually. That was just a one time thing.”

Steve smiled at him then, and Bucky realized just how much he had missed that smile. Thinking he’d never see it directed at him again had taken a toll on him.

“So,” he said, dragging out the word.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “So what?”

“What are we?”

Steve barked out a laugh, loud, cheerful and oh so beautiful. “Boyfriends? If you want to. God, that sounds like we’re in middle school.”

Bucky was laughing too. “Might as well do it properly then.” He reached out and placed his hand over Steve’s on the table, feeling its softness. “Do you want to be my boyfriend, Steve Rogers?”

“Only if you want to be my boyfriend, Bucky Barnes.”

“Well, then we have a dilemma.”

He deserved the kick his foot got under the table. “Asshole.”

They were both sniggering like maniacs. “I’d say I’m _your_ asshole, but that sounds wrong.” He gave Steve’s hand a squeeze. “So I guess boyfriend will do.”

“You almost passed out in Tony’s hallway last night. Don’t act like this means nothing to you.”

Bucky held up his free hand. “You got me.”

“I sure as hell hope so.”

* * *

 

It was funny how he’d woken up longing to leave and ended up wishing to stay. Both of them were very much aware that it was their day off and Bucky technically had nowhere else to be, so they decided to spend their day together, doing things that a couple would normally do. Bucky still got giddy at the thought that this Greek God was his boyfriend. He really did feel like he was in middle school.

After having had lunch at a cozy café which was then followed up by a walk around town, they stumbled back inside in the afternoon with snowflakes melting in their hair. They had narrowly missed a storm, but they were both shaking from the cold.

“You pick a movie and I’ll get the hot chocolate,” Steve said, and Bucky was baffled at how easy this was. How they barely had to think at all and just had to exist.

As he snuggled up in Steve’s arms it was impossible to think he’d been ready to accept that they were ending only hours before.

* * *

 

He woke up groggy, his head pounding more than before. He really should’ve taken something for it. His whole body was protesting when he moved to grab his phone to see what time it was. The room was dark, so it had to be late.

“Steve,” he mumbled, squinting at his bright screen. “Steve, I need to leave.”

Steve didn’t reply. He was turned toward him, his face buried in Bucky’s chest in a way that made Bucky’s heart swell. He never would’ve woken him up if it weren’t for the fact that Steve had him trapped between his body and the couch. Bucky would most likely end up hurting them both if he tried to climb over him.

“Steve.” He shook him reluctantly, watching him stir. “I need to go.”

“Why?” Steve asked, not opening his eyes. “Stay.”

“It’s past nine.”

“So?”

“We have work in the morning.”

“So?”

Bucky had to grin. “You’re impossible.”

Steve whined quietly into his shirt. “Why do you have to leave?”

“Because-” Bucky cut himself off. Why _did_ he have to leave? They were official now. He should be able to stay. “Let’s at least have something to eat before going to bed,” he said, running a hand down Steve’s back.

Steve hummed, but instead of making a move to get up he snuggled closer to him. “I’m comfy.”

Bucky wanted to let him be so badly, but the pain in his head was starting to become unbearable. “At least let me get up.”

One of Steve’s arms circled around him. “No.”

“Steve.”

“No.”

Bucky laughed. “God, you’re adorable.” He started wiggling his fingers over Steve’s hipbone. “But I really gotta get up.”

Steve let out a surprised yelp, his arm flying off of Bucky in order to push his hand away. “No!”

“Let me get up then.”

“No.”

Bucky sneaked his other arm underneath Steve so that he could pull him closer and hold him in his arms. It all sounded a lot more romantic than it actually was.

Steve was giggling as Bucky danced his fingers over his side. “Stop it!” Bucky could tell he was barely awake from the way he didn’t tickle Bucky back. They both knew Steve would win a two sided tickle fight.

Relishing in Steve’s laughter, Bucky pressed his lips to his hair. “You know what to do to get me to stop,” he sang, scratching at what part he could reach of Steve’s rib cage.

“You’re mehehean!” Steve choked out, kicking his feet in desperation.

“Oh, I know.” He moved upwards to flutter his fingers over Steve’s neck. “I learned from the best.”

Steve somehow managed to huff through his laughter. “I’ve created a monsteheher.”

“True.” Bucky stilled his fingers and just held Steve tightly, feeling oddly emotional. “Hopefully you won’t end up regretting it.”

Steve was panting slightly, but he slowly imitated him and wrapped his arms around Bucky as well. “I’m sure I won’t.”

They stayed like that for a moment, just holding each other. Bucky listened to the cars rushing by outside, to the people screaming and talking, to Steve’s calm breathing. He couldn’t believe that he’d almost lost this.

“I still need to get up.”

Steve pouted, but backed off obediently. “I still don’t get _why_.”

“To take something for my awful headache. To use the bathroom. To get us some dinner.”

Steve shook his head. “You’re a weak human.”

“And you’re not?” Bucky poked at his tummy for good measure, making him jerk away.

“Hey, hey, stop doing that.” Steve grabbed his wrists, holding them tightly. “That’s _my_ job.”

Steve was very good at his job.


	10. Chapter 9.5 - missing moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three moments that didn’t make it into the previous chapter: Steve bringing a drunk Bucky home, the morning after they make up, and them making breakfast. Angst, fluff and fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second to last part of this series. I decided to give you some missing moments before delivering the very last part. I’m hoping to finish and post part 10 before next week is over. I’ll probably be an emotional wreck once I do. I hope you like this.

**Steve bringing a drunk Bucky home**

The world was spinning way too quickly, and Bucky felt as if he didn’t have any legs for some reason. Was he dying?

Steve groaned as he hauled him up the stairs - Bucky was aware enough of his surroundings to realize that they had entered a building. Unless Steve knew of a secret mansion with endless stairs it had to be the stairwell to an apartment; probably Steve’s or his own. Bucky wasn’t sure which one.

He could feel Steve huffing at his side, and the sound annoyed him immensely. He tried to push him away, but realized too late that Steve was basically holding him up, so he settled on glaring at whatever came into his line of vision, which happened to be stairs more often than not.

“Just work with me, Buck,” Steve muttered. Bucky couldn’t really pinpoint his tone.

Steve helped him into the apartment; searching for the lightswitch while simultaneously preventing Bucky from falling on his face. Bucky should feel grateful, but instead he just felt mad. He couldn’t remember why, but he wasn’t happy with Steve in that moment.

He tried to shove him away once more, but Steve simply held on tighter and dragged him into a room and dumped him on something soft. A bed probably. All the while Bucky could hear himself slurring out variations of “let go of me”. Steve ignored him until he was safely tucked under the covers.

“I’ll bring you some water.”

Bucky closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning. He felt like he was going to be sick. If he was in a more sober state he would probably worry about throwing up in Steve’s - or his own? - bed, but right now he was more concerned about choking on his own vomit, so he rolled to the side so that his head was hanging off the side. His movements did nothing to stop the dizziness.

“Bucky?”

Bucky acknowledged Steve’s return with a moan. Steve understood what that meant.

Ten minutes later and Bucky was back in the bed with a half empty glass of water on the bedside table. The world was still spinning, but not as much as before. It was just enough to lull him to sleep, but he distinctly remembered himself saying “I never want to see you again” before passing out.

**The morning after they make up**

Bucky had never heard a worse sound than Steve’s alarm clock. Somehow it was even worse than his own, and when his phone suddenly started harmonizing with Steve’s Bucky was afraid he would lose his mind. Fortunately his body acted on its own accord and he reached for his phone while still half asleep. The awful noises stopped around the same time, and Bucky had to stare at the wall in silent shock for a moment before he could roll back to a more comfortable position on his back.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, his heart hammering against his chest.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Steve replied from his side.

Bucky had always imagined their first time waking up together as something calm and loving; waking the other up with gentle kisses, their bodies tangled together under the warm covers. Instead he got a heart attack, an equally exhausted Steve, and two phones forcing them to wake up way too suddenly. Why oh why did his plans never work out?

“I hope you snoozed yours because I’m not ready to wake up yet,” Steve announced, rolling over to press his face against Bucky’s arm. “Goodnight.”

Bucky, despite the fact that his own eyes were heavier than he would’ve liked, snorted at his boyfriend (boyfriend!). “None of that. We need to get up so that we can make something to eat before leaving.”

Steve didn’t reply. In fact, he didn’t even move other than to breathe, and his breathing was calmer than earlier.

Bucky tilted his head. “Did you fall asleep on me already?”

No reply.

“Steve?”

“Shh. You’re making it really hard to doze off.”

“Stop trying then.”

“You suck so much sometimes.”

Steve rolled away, and Bucky barely held back a whine at the loss of contact. He watched Steve curl up with his back toward him, and he was sure he didn’t imagine the small huff leaving his boyfriend’s (boyfriend’s!) lips. He grinned.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he said, scooting closer to him.

“Leave me alone.”

“Not a morning person, I see.” Bucky turned to his side and poked at Steve’s shoulder blade. “Up and at ‘em, come on.”

Steve reached behind him to try to swat his hand away. “Go away.”

Bucky sighed dramatically. “Well, you’re leaving me no choice.”

Steve probably saw it coming if the way he made a move to sit up was any indication, but Bucky was quicker. He had his hands on Steve’s sensitive body parts within seconds, poking and prodding and tickling in all his might. Steve let out an indignant cry, squirming more than he was laughing.

“Stop it!”

“Nope. You brought this upon yourself.”

“Stop stealing my job, dammit!”

“Wake up then!”

And suddenly Steve was giggling; the sound slicing through what would’ve been a quiet morning if their alarms hadn’t decided to butt in and change that. Bucky wasn’t as bitter about that as before.

Bucky only had to torture Steve’s rib cage for another minute before he gave in. Steve’s laughter being one of the first things to reach Bucky’s ears that day was bound to mean something good.

**Making breakfast the morning after they make up**

Bucky would be content to just watch Steve make them breakfast all day if he had to be honest - Steve had forbidden him to help because “I want to make you food myself, Buck, shut up now” - but as soon as Steve noticed that he was staring he told him to set the table.

“I know you can’t look and not touch, and we’ve got things to do and places to be,” he said way too cheerfully.

Bucky grumbled, but did as he’d been told. It was only when he had to pass by where Steve was standing to grab some cutlery that the urge became too huge and he had to reach out. _Had_ to or he would die.

Steve didn’t appreciate having his ass slapped apparently, because Bucky was on the ground only seconds later with his frowning boyfriend (boyfriend!) sitting on his waist.

“Why don’t you ever do what I tell you, huh?”

Bucky grinned innocently at him. “You can’t say you didn’t like it.”

“Just like you can’t say you don’t like _this_.”

Bucky wasn’t surprised when Steve’s fingers found his sides, but his body jerked at the contact nevertheless.

“Dohon’t!” he giggled, his hands grabbing at Steve’s wrists.

“Apologize,” Steve demanded, smirking smugly at him.

“No!”

“Then I’ll never stop!”

“Steve, the fohohood-”

“Shit, the food!”

The kitchen catching fire wasn’t how either of them wanted to start the day, so Steve flew off of him to attend to bigger issues, but Bucky _did_ have to suffer through countless of pokes for the rest of the morning. Not that he minded.


	11. Chapter 10 - finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fury’s got some important news to share, and Bucky’s whole world changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s all, folks. Behind The Scenes is all done with this last and final part. I’ve had so much fun writing this, and you’ve all been incredible with your support and feedback. I wouldn’t be able to thank you enough. I hope you all like the last part of this series. I’m really pleased with how I wrapped it all up, and I hope you are too.

As Bucky stepped into work that Friday he couldn’t believe how eventful the end of the previous week had been - not to mention the actual _weekend_. The past week had been like an endless routine; something he usually didn’t mind, but his days looking this identical was freaking him out just a little bit.

Maybe he’d subconsciously thought that things would change after that playwright had seen their show. Maybe the fact that everything was very much the same was off-putting. Maybe he’d thought that him and Steve finally being official would make him see the world in a brand new light. Instead he’d gotten raised eyebrows and knowing smirks, paired with Sam’s oh so helpful “Because you making out everywhere wasn’t enough of a sign”. Bucky hadn’t expected them to throw a party at his and Steve’s announcement, but he’d expected  _something_. Still, he couldn’t exactly hold his friends’ and co-stars’ reactions against them. It felt like he’d been glued to Steve’s side for months already, so at this point he shouldn’t have been surprised at the lack of, well, surprise.

Nat had been more pleased than anyone, but Bucky had later found out that she’d been the one to help Steve haul Bucky’s drunk ass into a taxi, so she’d no doubt realized that things hadn’t been all right between them that night. She was happy that they’d worked it out.

Holding two cups of slightly too hot coffee, Bucky made his way through the theatre and toward the dressing rooms.

“Barnes,” Tony greeted him, appearing out of nowhere and falling in step with him. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

Bucky indicated the cups. “I’m gonna go find him now.”

“Bet you miss him like crazy,” Clint commented, popping up just as suddenly as Tony on his other side.

“I literally saw him last night.”

“Hey, you two haven’t been separated in ages. It feels weird just _seeing_ you alone.”

Bucky frowned. “We’re not attached at the hip.” He let Tony walk past him as they neared a doorway. “At least I don’t think so. Oh god, are we that couple who can’t be apart?”

“Nah, we’re just messing with you,” Tony said, holding the door open so that Bucky and Clint could pass. “Besides, you’re in the honeymoon stage of the relationship. Being together often is natural. If you’re inseparable in a year it will be another thing.”

“Yeah, that shit’s dangerous,” Sam added, suddenly behind them from seemingly nowhere. “If you break up you won’t even know who you are anymore after that.”

Bucky shook his head. “Please don’t talk about breakups.”

Sam grinned apologetically and gave his back a pat. “Sorry. But hey, speaking of your boyfriend.”

Steve was coming from the opposite direction, spotting them around the same time as they did him. They all paused in front of the first couple of dressing rooms, staring at each other.

Steve raised an eyebrow at them all. “What?”

“Nothing,” Bucky said before anyone else could open their mouth. “I bought you coffee.” He held up one of the cups and was instantly confused when Steve’s eyes widened at it. “Wha-”

“I bought you coffee too,” Steve said, interrupting him. “It’s on your desk. So’s my own. I was waiting for them to cool.”

“Oh.”

“You two disgust me,” Clint announced with a shake of his head. “With your consideration and kindness. Gross.” He grabbed the cup Bucky was holding out before walking into their shared dressing room. “But hey, thanks for the coffee, pal.”

Sam reached for his other one. “Yeah, that’s very thoughtful of you,” he said before joining Clint.

Tony scoffed. “And the techie gets nothing. Typical.” And he was gone, not looking back at Steve and Bucky once.

They were left alone in the hallway, their gazes locked. Steve was the first one to smile. “We are sort of disgusting.”

Bucky barked out a laugh. “We need to stop being so couple-y.”

“Oh, definitely. But I want to do this first.” Steve leaned in and Bucky met him halfway. He wouldn’t admit it with anyone else around since it hadn’t even been 24 hours, but he’d missed the feeling of Steve’s soft lips on his own. There was something unbelievably comforting about them being this close.

“Okay, we can go back to not being gross now,” Steve said once they pulled apart.

“I like being gross with you, though. It’s fun.”

“There’s plenty of time to be gross tonight,” Steve replied with a smirk.

“Oh, right. I’m still picking the movie.”

“You picked it last time!”

“Lies. All of them.”

They entered the dressing room and gravitated toward their coffees immediately. Bucky felt at least five times more human once the - now lukewarm but nevertheless life-saving - liquid entered his system. He plopped down in front of Clint on the worn couch with a content hum, Steve joining him a second later.

“I’m not saying I don’t love this job,” Sam said from where he was perched on a chair in front of his desk. “But damn does it feel good that this week’s almost over.”

“I hear you,” Bucky retorted, gripping his cup with both hands. “It’s not even been a stressful week, but something about it has just felt…off.”

“I agree, and it’s pissing me off that I can’t figure out what,” Sam replied, taking a sip of what was supposed to be Bucky’s coffee if Steve hadn’t been such a sweetheart.

Clint, who was peeling an orange that he’d grabbed from the bowl on the table, paused what he was doing to look at them. “It’s obviously the aftermath of that playwright’s visit. We’re all sort of waiting for something to happen even though the possibility of absolutely nothing coming out of it is quite big.”

Sam snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “That’s it. That’s why this week’s been draining me.”

Bucky, who had somehow already known that that had something to do with it, merely started spinning his cup around in his hands. He wished the coffee was warmer.

“If I put this in the microwave, do you think the cup will melt?”

They probably noticed him changing the subject, but no one decided to comment on it. Clint made a big show out of squinting at his cup. “I wouldn’t risk it if I were you.”

Bucky let out a heavy, slightly too dramatic sigh. “Dammit.”

And thus the previous conversation ended, but Bucky didn’t miss the occasional looks Steve sent him as they waited for the time to pass so that they could start getting ready for the show. Bucky knew his lines by heart, and for once he didn’t feel compelled to go through them anyway. Just the thought of grabbing the script exhausted him. Sam was right. The weekend couldn’t get here fast enough.

“Shouldn’t you be stripping?” Clint asked a while later, glancing at the clock. “So that your boyfriend can paint all over you, I mean.”

Bucky locked eyes with Steve. “I should, yeah.”

“Then we’re out of here,” Sam announced as he stood. “Don’t wanna be around to see that.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as his co-stars left the room, but he shot Steve a grin which earned him a smile back.

Steve stood and reached for his hand. “Shall we?”

Bucky still felt a little shy while undressing, despite the fact that they’d been doing this for ages now. You’d think them being a couple would make it easier, but the fact of the matter was that Bucky felt ten times more self conscious now. Still, seeing Steve’s encouraging smile helped each time.

His body tensed up automatically as Steve moved his brush toward him. They used to paint his less sensitive parts first, but had decided to change tactics and go with his ticklish spots first. It made the whole process easier. Bucky may have liked being tickled, but that didn’t mean that he enjoyed having to stand still through it all. Knowing that the torture would be over soon was better than dreading it while Steve ran his brush over his arms and shoulders.

“So, about that movie,” Steve said just as Bucky jerked away as the cold paint was smeared over his lower back.

“What about it?” Bucky asked through gritted teeth.

“I’m thinking instead of fighting over who gets to pick it we could try to come to a mutual decision.”

“I think it’s pretty clear that we don’t exactly vote for the same sort of movies.” Bucky reached out to grip his desk to keep himself from accidentally hitting Steve in the face as the brush made its way up and down his sensitive skin.

“We could try. Worst case scenario we can watch two.”

“How about the first half of one and the second half of the other?”

“That’s a terrible idea, Buck.”

“You try thinking clearly when you’re being paint-tickled to death.”

“Hey, at least the giggles haven’t arrived yet.” Steve backed off briefly to dip his brush in more paint. “I’m sure they’re not far away though.”

“Honestly, I think my idea was good,” Bucky said, letting out a small yelp when Steve returned. “It would make an interehesting fihihilm.”

“There they are.”

“Shut ihit.”

Bucky felt as if his face was going to split in half from the smile he wore; bouts of laughter leaving his lips as he did his very best to not move while Steve worked his magic.

“You’re so cute,” Steve commented, no doubts used to it all, but seemingly finding joy in it anyway.

“I said shuhut ihihit!”

“Okay, back to tonight. Should we go out for dinner or have takeout before settling down?”

“Takeout plehease. I don’t want to leave the apartment until Monday.”

“Whose apartment?”

“Yohours?”

“We were there all of last weekend.”

“Mihine thehen. Let’s swing by your place and get a couple of thihings.” Bucky said all this while giggling like crazy, his body twitching whenever Steve switched spots unexpectedly. “I thihink I left some stuhuff thehere.”

“It’s a deal then. We can pick some food up on the way to yours.”

“Sounds gohood.”

A tentative knock on the door made Steve’s hand freeze mid-motion, the two of them locking eyes briefly before Bucky said, “Come in.”

Out of all the people in the world Fury was the last person Bucky expected to walk into the room.

Feeling more naked than ever, Bucky crossed his arms before asking, “Director?”

“I know you’re in the middle of something,” Fury said, looking unfazed while Bucky himself refused to meet his eye. “But this really couldn’t wait. I need everyone to get together on stage. I’ve got some news to share with you.”

He was gone just as suddenly as he’d appeared. Bucky would make a statement about how people kept popping up and vanishing all day, but the knot in his stomach prevented him from making a sound. He looked at Steve, panic most likely evident on his face. Steve had always been the calm one.

“Hey, no need to freak out,” Steve told him, setting the brush aside. “Let’s get your robe and go see what he wants, okay?”

Neither of them commented on the fact that the robe was probably messing up the art on Bucky’s back. Thankfully they had only been at it for a couple of minutes, so it wouldn’t take much to save it.

“Do you think it’s something bad?” Bucky mumbled as they walked through the hallway side by side.

“I couldn’t really interpret his tone,” Steve replied, his hand slipping into Bucky’s. “But it’s probably big. It has to be. Otherwise Fury would wait until after the show. He wouldn’t distract us if he had any other choice.”

Bucky wasn’t sure if Steve’s words made him feel any better, but he appreciated the fact that Steve didn’t filter his thoughts for Bucky’s sake. Sometimes Bucky forgot that this job meant as much to Steve as it did to him.

They were the last people to arrive, and wherever Bucky looked he was met with the sight of slightly disheveled co-stars and crew members. They all looked as confused as he did; some of them in their robes like him. No one had expected to be pulled away from the comfort of their dressing rooms just yet.

Fury only had to open his mouth before all eyes were on him. “I’m sorry for dragging you all here so suddenly,” he started, and Bucky winced. Fury apologizing wasn’t a good sign.

“Is everything okay, Nick?” Nat asked, voicing what they all were thinking.

Fury looked at her, his expression betraying nothing. “That depends on how you choose to see it.”

Bucky could tell from Nat’s frown that she wasn’t happy with that answer, but she didn’t speak again; instead deciding to cross her arms and wait for Fury to continue.

“It has come to my attention that some big changes are coming our way, and when I say big I really do mean big.”

Bucky felt like his knees were about to give in. “The show’s not closing, is it?” he blurted out before he could stop himself. He hated how pathetic he sounded. Shows closed all the time. As an actor you just had to learn to keep going. He knew this, but he wasn’t ready to let go of the best thing to have happened to him. Not yet, at least.

Fury fixed his gaze on him. “Not exactly.”

Clint reacted before Bucky could even form a coherent thought. “Exactly?”

Fury addressed the whole room when he spoke again. “I’m sure neither of you have forgotten Mr Lee’s presence this time last week.”

“How could we forget,” Sam muttered. “Famous playwright seeing an amateur production. That’s huge.”

“Well, that famous playwright really liked our amateur production, and he apparently had one of his friend’s come see it during the week.”

Bucky could barely breathe. “Friend?”

Fury met his eyes. “A critic friend.”

“A…a critic?”

“A critic,” Fury confirmed.

Steve spoke when no one else did. “And what did the critic think?”

“Well,” Fury started, reaching into his pocket to fish out a folded piece of paper. “He did what critics do and wrote a review.” Fury waited a beat as the room took the news in. “And the review was very favorable.”

“He liked it?” Steve sounded as breathless as Bucky felt.

“No. He loved it.” Fury unfolded the article. “It says so in bold letters.”

The room exploded into cheers, but Bucky was unable to join them. He hadn’t been involved in many theatre productions, so he wasn’t entirely sure what this meant. He only knew that it was huge.

“So now what?” he asked Fury through the noise. Fury had been looking at him before he spoke.

“Now we wait,” Fury replied, and the cheers and chattering died down a little as the others listened. “If we’re lucky we might be able to leave this lousy building for something better. Worst case scenario we start selling a lot more tickets and get more publicity.”

“Do you think Broadway will ever be in the picture?” Nat asked, a rare smile of genuine happiness plastered on her face.

“The possibility is definitely bigger now. All I know is that if we end up on Broadway I’m taking you all with me.”

If Bucky had thought the noise had been loud before it was nothing compared to what happened as they all registered Fury’s words. Some - braver - people rushed up to him to give him a hug, and while Fury didn’t hug back Bucky could tell that he was pleased no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Some hugged each other while others danced around in glee. It was the most beautiful scene Bucky had ever seen, and he stared and stared in hopes of never forgetting it.

Steve was on his side - when was he not? - and Bucky could almost feel the joy radiating from him. He turned to meet his eyes, smiling hugely as he did. “Wow.”

Steve gave a laugh. “Wow indeed.”

“And to think I was freaking out about him coming to see us.”

“Anyone would be freaking out in your position.”

“Even you?”

“Even me.”

“I have a hard time believing that,” Bucky said. “You’re usually so calm.”

“It’s almost always an act.”

“Really?”

“Okay, I wasn’t panicking as much as you, but I wasn’t as steady as I seemed.”

“Don’t you think there’s any point in freaking out?”

“I tried to stay calm for your sake.”

“Oh, Steve.” Bucky reached for his hand, knowing that everyone was too busy celebrating to mind their little love fest. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

“I appreciate it, though.”

“I know.”

Bucky gave his hand a squeeze. “Broadway. Could you imagine?”

“I won’t believe it until I see it,” Steve said, shaking his head. “It’s just too bizarre.”

“It might be reality one day.”

“God, I hope so. You deserve it. All of you do.”

“All of us.” Bucky gave Steve a pointed look. “You’re included.”

Steve grinned. “All of us.”

“That’s better.”

They turned to watch their elated friends and cast members, both of them just as happy, but not really the celebrating types. Not in that way at least. Fury was still engulfed in a group hug, and Bucky was worried that he would get enough and snap, thus ending the party too early. No one so much as looked at a clock, because it didn’t matter if they had to rush through getting ready later. The news they’d gotten were worth every single second of cheering.

Bucky turned back to Steve curiously when he felt him lean closer.

“Just so you know,” Steve started, his breath hitting Bucky’s face. “If you end up becoming this huge celebrity I call dibs on being your biggest fan. Because I am.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, though his heart started beating faster. “Only if I can call dibs on being  _your_ biggest fan. Because I am.”

“There we go again, being gross and couple-y.”

“It’s almost the weekend,” Bucky commented, taking a step closer to him. “We have the right to be gross and couple-y.”

He closed the distance between them before the knowledge of his co-stars being right next to them could stop him. Steve placed his hands on his lower back, probably smearing the paint even more if it hadn’t dried yet. Neither of them cared. Bucky smiled into the kiss when Steve gave his back a quick tickle. How he’d gotten so lucky he would never know.

Dreams really did come true sometimes.


	12. Christmas Special - bonus chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky spend their first Christmas together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey, you thought this series was over, huh? Well, so did I until like a week ago. Have this little Christmas special to get you into the holiday spirit.

Bucky was aware of how slowly things progressed in the business that held his heart, but time passed by so quickly simultaneously that he was never quite sure what day it was anymore. He was so wrapped up in waiting for news of what was to happen of their show now that they had caught the attention of important people that he didn’t notice when November became December, when icy ground became snowy ground, and when weary eyes lit up as the holiday spirit took over.

If he’d been more observant he wouldn’t have been as surprised when Steve had asked him what he wanted for Christmas, what his plans were, and what he was doing for New Year’s Eve. Steve had asked it so casually that Bucky had almost forgotten how non-casual questions like those were for a new couple. And then he’d started freaking out himself.

“Oh, uh,” he’d started, ever so eloquent. “I don’t know? Honestly my mind’s been so occupied lately that I didn’t even realize Christmas was coming up.”

Steve had smiled that gentle smile that did things to his heart. “Understandable. Get back to me about the present though, okay?”

“Only if you do the same.”

“Deal.”

Neither of them got back to the other. It was about manners, asking someone what they wanted. You never expected to get an answer, and quite frankly Bucky felt very weird about telling Steve what to buy for him. He’d rather just get to spend the evening with him instead.

That brought him to a new problem: what the hell was he going to do for Christmas? Visiting his family was an obvious one, but what was he supposed to do about Steve? It was way too early to introduce them to each other. And he _really_ wanted to spend Christmas with Steve.

This was indeed a problem.

But it was a problem he was happy to be having.

They were having a dinner date exactly one week before Christmas Eve. The hamburger place was packed, which was both alarming and not surprising. People tended to avoid being at home during this time of the year, because it usually meant that they would be stuck doing some sort of preparation. Sometimes you just needed to get out for a bit.

Steve and Bucky had scored a table in the corner, somewhat shielded from the rest of the guests. It gave them the privilege of privacy, but it also made Bucky nervous. They still hadn’t properly talked about Christmas, and he knew one of them would have to bring it up tonight. It was rather nerve wracking.

Steve was the one to steer the conversation toward Christmas. “Have you gotten anyone in the cast any gifts?”

Bucky shook his head. “We decided not to do gift exchanges this year, since most of us are struggling artists who can barely get their family members the things they deserve.”

“That’s smart. Tony’s throwing a Christmas party on the 26th though, isn’t he?”

“I think he mentioned something about it.”

“So we’ll get to spend time together anyway. I think that’s more precious than a gift.”

“Are you hinting that we shouldn’t give each other gifts?” Bucky wasn’t sure if he liked the idea or not.

“Oh, no, no. I already got you something anyway.” Steve grinned at him. “Since it’s our first Christmas together I wanted to get you something whether you wanted me to or not.”

“Steve, you shouldn’t have.”

“Suck it up, Barnes.”

Bucky barked out a laugh. “Well, I’m in the process of getting you something too. Do you know how hard you are to shop for?”

Steve snorted. “Oh, trust me, you weren’t any easier.”

They ate in silence for a couple of minutes, the countless conversations around them keeping the situation from getting awkward. Steve had taken the first step and brought Christmas up, so Bucky knew it was his turn to be brave. He chewed slowly as he tried to figure out how to word his next few sentences.

“So,” he said once he’d swallowed. “About Christmas.”

Steve looked up and met his gaze. “What about it?”

“I think we need to decide how to go about this.” He licked his lips. “We’ve barely been dating for two months. I… I think it’s too early to have a joint Christmas. Especially since my family doesn’t really know about you yet.”

Steve nodded. “I haven’t told mine either. We’ve only been official for a few weeks, and after the whole party fiasco I was scared to move too quickly.”

“So was I.”

“So what should we do?”

“I usually spend Christmas Day with my family, so I was thinking we spend Christmas Eve together. Just the two of us. We could exchange gifts and have dinner and watch Christmas movies. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a fantastic idea.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh.”

They smiled at each other and everything was settled. It was that easy.

* * *

 

They decided to spend Christmas Eve at Steve’s place - “Your name rhymes with Christmas Eve, so it feels appropriate” - but Bucky refused to let Steve prepare anything by himself. They went to the grocery store together where they split up the purchase so that they both paid, and then they spent the day cooking while listening to the Christmas playlist that Bucky had made. They put the gifts - one each - under Steve’s rather small Christmas tree, and Bucky felt that familiar feeling of holiday joy. It really was Christmas.

“So what’s your usual schedule for the holidays?” Steve asked once they sat down to eat. “I mean, how do your days usually look?”

“Well,” Bucky started as he picked up his fork. “We usually spend the day fighting and being stressed as we’re preparing everything. So that’s fun.”

“I can relate to that.”

“But once it’s all done we sit down and have the best meal of the year. I’m talking the entire family, cousins and all that included. We don’t see each other that often, so Christmas is always special.” He shoved some potatoes into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “After that we usually have some coffee or something in the living room. That used to be incredibly boring to me as a kid, but I can appreciate it now. It’s usually the only calm moment of the year.”

“Do you open gifts in the morning?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nope. Our tradition has always been to open them in the evening. That way all the kids don’t get bored and force the party to end early. Of course we always got impatient, so that wasn’t necessarily better, but once the adults gave in and we got to open our gifts we were happy again.”

“Are you one of those people who still get excited over gifts?”

“I am,” Bucky admitted. “I guess my upbringing has something to do with it. We didn’t have that much money, so every gift was special.”

“I see what you mean. We didn’t have much money either, and that has resulted in me always being incredibly shocked when people give me gifts.”

“Please don’t pass out when you open mine.”

“I make no promises.”

Bucky let out a laugh and said, “So what about you? What does your Christmas usually look like?”

“Instead of putting the responsibility on one family we always gather at a different house each year. This year we’re going to my cousin’s which is fortunately only an hour from here.”

“How many days will you be away?”

“Oh, I’ll be back tomorrow night. They don’t have the space to let people stay unless they’ve travelled from another state or something.”

“Oh, good.”

“Good, huh?”

“I mean, we are invited to a party on the 26th. I can’t go by myself, can I?”

Steve smirked at him. “Of course not.”

“Stop trying to embarrass me and keep going.”

Steve didn’t deny it, Bucky noticed. “We open presents in the morning, so of course I woke up at dawn when I was a kid. Unfortunately ‘morning’ could last until noon, which was a long time to wait if you’d been awake since 6am.”

“They always torture you.”

“That they do. I can sort of understand them now, though I’ll never admit it to their faces.”

“What do you usually do on Christmas Eve?”

“Nothing really. Hang out with friends or take the time to rest a bit before the chaos of the next day. It really depends. What about you?”

“Pretty much the same as you.”

“So today is special for both of us, huh?”

Bucky nodded. “It looks like it.”

“I feel like this’ll be a Christmas I will remember forever.”

“I sure as hell hope so.”

* * *

 

Their bellies were full, gifts had been exchanged, and a movie was playing on the TV in front of them. Bucky felt more content than ever in Steve’s arms, feeling his breath against his neck and his heart against his back.

And when Steve’s fingers started wiggling against his sides, just like he knew they would, Bucky might as well have been in heaven.

He breathed out a laugh, his body twitching and his hands finding Steve’s automatically. “Steve,” he murmured, not sure what else to say.

“Yeah?” Steve sounded amused.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything.” The fingers started wiggling again, and this time Bucky’s laughter was louder, bubblier.

They had done this so many times that it was all like a memorized dance. Steve would keep tickling him until Bucky couldn’t take it anymore, so he would attempt to flee or retaliate. Steve would then pin him down to tickle him properly since ‘you need this, Buck’, and in the end Steve would gather the giggly remains of him in his arms again and they would continue to watch the movie as if nothing had happened, though Bucky’s body would be tingling for the rest of the night.

Some things were just bound to stay the same.

Steve’s fingers moved to his abdomen, and Bucky did everything in is power not to push him away just yet. As unbearable as it was it also felt amazing, and Bucky adored the sensation more than he would ever care to admit. Fortunately Steve already knew this.

“Why are you laughing?” Steve asked, but Bucky didn’t provide him with an answer since it wasn’t needed. Steve just enjoyed teasing him while doing this.

He turned over, couldn’t help it, and pressed his face into Steve’s chest. Steve’s fingers were forced to move from his stomach to his lower back, but never once did they stop. He could still hear the voices of the characters in the movie over his laughter, but only barely. In that moment, his whole world was focused on Steve’s fingers.

“Dohohon’t,” he giggled, not meaning it. He could feel Steve’s chest rumble with as he laughed in response, and he gripped Steve’s shirt tightly. It was only a matter of time before he’d attempt to make him stop. He knew that from the way Steve’s fingertips sent ticklish shocks through his body. He wouldn’t be able to take it for much longer.

Later, as they settled down again with only Bucky’s heavy breathing as the evidence, he felt an overwhelming wave of gratefulness wash over him. This time last year he’d had nothing. Now he had pretty much everything.

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” he mumbled into his neck.

“Merry Christmas, Bucky,” Steve replied, pressing his lips to his hair.

All those Christmas love songs finally made sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://nhasablog.tumblr.com)


End file.
